


Ill-Starred

by kiwisarekool



Series: Damned Before the Dawn [1]
Category: Marvel AU - Fandom, Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen, It'll be a fun ride if you hang in there I swear, Kinda angsty in some parts, Mild Language, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, Please be gentle with me, Superfamily (Marvel), Superheroes, Takes place before any of the Marvel movies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 21:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwisarekool/pseuds/kiwisarekool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vanaheim: sister land of Asgard and home to the people known as the Vanir. Among these people, Ildri, the daughter of a prominent Asgardian military general, has never felt at home. But when disaster strikes and Ildri must face the consequences, she will learn that fate can change in an instant, for the better as well as worse.<br/>From the rolling hills of Vanaheim to the mystic cities of Asgard, Ildri must face her choices and the lasting affects they have, not only for herself, but the Nine Realms and their people as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: A Disappointing Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> "If we will be quiet and ready enough, we shall find compensation in every disappointment."
> 
> \- Henry David Thoreau
> 
> A big thank you to my lovely Beta Lizzy who puts up with me even when I text her hysterically at two in the morning wanting to know the age calculations between Asgardians and Midgardians. I love ya girl ;-)

Disappointment.

Its sharp taste was bitter in Calder's mouth as he stared out the window of his temporary home, glaring with trepidation at the wood off in the distance. The home was temporary only because his wife had convinced him to come to Vanaheim as the time to bear their child grew closer. With whispers of war brewing in their native Asgard, he had been helpless against her pleas. Now, as his wife lay dying in the other room with the healer and midwife, he wondered why he had agreed to the foolish plan. If they had stayed in Asgard, perhaps she could have been afforded better care and their son born into the wealth and privilege that was rightfully his...But Alva always had to have her way, and when had he ever been anything but helpless to her charms?

"M'Lord?"

He turned slightly to face the doctor hovering by his elbow. He braced himself after seeing the look on the man's face, his stomach roiling.

"Well?"

"M'Lord, we..." he faltered, looking anywhere but Calder's cold eyes. "We did all we could, but your wife was just too tired at the end. I offer my deepest condolences for your loss."

The doctor cowered slightly and wore a look of shame, as though he had personally killed Alva and feared Calder would strike him for the transgression. It was then that Calder noticed how young the man was, the bags under his eyes, the disheveled and unkempt hair. The bright blood dancing on the edges of his robes. He softened his look, if only for a moment.

"And what of my son?"

A look of surprise flitted across the doctor's face. "Son? No, the babe is a girl."

The midwife chose that moment to walk out, a tiny bundle in her hands. Calder recoiled as if slapped or burned.

"A daughter?" The bitter edge had crept back into his voice, a look of extreme displeasure lighting his face. "Of what use will a daughter be to me? Drown the thing for all I care."

"But My Lord! The babe is the last memory of your wife you have. Does that not mean anything to you?"

The midwife's look of horror had morphed into one of pleading, and Calder could only stare at her. The two bright red spots on her cheeks reminded him of the fruits he gave Alva when they first encountered one another that day thousands of years ago. Oh, by the Nine, how young and foolish they had been... But what would his lifespan, tens of thousands of years, be without her now?

"Hand me the child." he commanded gruffly, fixing his eyes on a point above all of their heads. 

The nurse reluctantly handed him the child, certainly afraid he would throw her violently to the ground or make good on the notion to drown her. Instead, he stared silently at her sleeping face. Was that a hint of Alva he saw in her shape of it? No, it was too early to tell... He shook out of his stupor and glanced at the midwife and the healer.

"Her name shall be Ildri. Alv- her mother favored the name."

A sob tore its way up his throat after saying so about his beloved, but he forced it back down. Dead love, he reminded himself. Dead because of he and the babe. The accursed babe. With that, he thrusted the child back into the arms of the midwife and strode across the room to where his wife lay still and lifeless.

"M'Lord, will you need assistance in packing the belongings in the house? I can see to it that some men in the village assist you in bringing your things back to Asg-" Calder cut him off. "No, I will do the packing myself." his tone rang short and bitter as he moved about. 

He swung around to face the pair again, his eyes two shining gems full of tears and anger.

"The child will stay here, in Vanaheim." He nodded even as the eyes of the midwife grew large and round.

"But My Lord!" she protested, "the wee infant just lost her mother...She...She will need you.." "No." he said, a cold look in his eye "What she needs now is a wet nurse. As you can see, I will not be able to fit that duty. I am needed back in Asgard, and I cannot burden myself with...that. The child will remain here. War is brewing with the Beings from Above, and I will not be forced to watch over a child when my Realm needs me."

"My Lord! Calder, please!"

"DO NOT PRESUME YOU KNOW ME WELL ENOUGH TO USE MY NAME!!" he roared, "I am of a higher standing than you, and it will do you good to remember that. My wife has just died thanks to the incompetency of you and that doctor. Now is my time to grieve, not to be saddled with some brat." He spat out the last word, as if offended by the taste. "Now, the child is to stay here. Find her a wet nurse and watch over her. I will send payment for the upkeep of the house." He hesitated, perhaps wanting to say something more but thinking better of it. The doors slammed behind him as he went in to view his dead wife's corpse.

The doctor and midwife shared a troubled glance before staring at the baby.

"May the Nine be with you" she whispered as she smoothed the girl's dark hair down. She straightened and walked to the large glass window Calder had been staring out not even an hour before. She spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Welcome to Vanaheim, Ildri, daughter of Calder. May the Nine be with us all."


	2. Magic and Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Memories, even bittersweet ones, are better than nothing.”
> 
> ― Jennifer L. Armentrout
> 
>  
> 
> '"I must know the real truth, the truth beyond magic.'
> 
> 'There is no truth beyond magic,' said the king."
> 
> ― John Fowles
> 
> Eternal thanks to both Lizzy and Tate, my faithful readers and people that like to point out what I did wrong so you guys don't.

Of all the things Ildri detested, there was nothing higher than her father's dislike, no, resentment of magic, she thought as she pushed a silky brown strand of her hair away from her eyes. Even above the other children with their cruel words and incessant teasing, nothing irritated her further.

His resentment was what drove her to trek across the meadows of Vanaheim to find dilapidated and abandoned dwellings such as the one she currently resided in. Only there could she safely learn and practice the magical arts from the few books she had while safely avoiding the prying eyes and loose lips of the village people.

If her father had been in the crumbling abode with her now, he would have looked disdainfully upon the fallen walls, grimaced at the weeds and vines snaking their way throughout the dilapidated building, turned up his nose at the small bench where she now sat. He might have even resented the warm weather that caused sweat to trickle down the body and fall to the ground below.

But it was just Ildri there, and she always saw the beauty in what others could not: the rich sunlight steaming through the remains of the roof, the small creatures that took shelter in the heart of the place. These were the things that brought a light to her laughing green eyes, never the possessions she had or the small gifts her father occasionally had sent to her.

Even as the dwelling stood cast aside as a jilted lover might be, it was still capable of life, and best of all, sanctuary. Here, the taunting of the other children would never reach her. Her protective wards she had placed around the dwelling would make sure of that, she thought as a smug smile formed on her mouth. She flipped aimlessly through the pages of the thickest book of magic, intent on finding an invisibility spell that she could easily master. Or perhaps a spell that would make her more appealing to the Vanir, she mused, her brow furrowing.

On Vanaheim, she was ostracized, left in a foreign place by a father who had never quite wanted her; the land and its people rejected her as well. Instead of welcoming her into the masses, the children at first had been wary of the outsider who looked different than them, with her dark hair and mischievous green eyes. After hearing several opinions muttered by their parents at home about Ildri's father, the children began to reject her every advance at kindness and attempts at friendships. No, the people of the village had ruined her last chances at happiness with the other children of the village.

Or rather, maybe her father had yet again. The people of Vanaheim were peaceful, or at least claimed to be, especially when it came to waging war with other species’. They wanted peace and harmony with the Ones From Above, something that would not happen as long as Calder was whispering in the ear of the All-Father. No one had every clearly even seen one of these "mystical beings" or gathered evidence for them, Ildri thought with a snort. They were as good as myth, and even if the legends did prove to be true, no one knew exactly why they appeared along the outer edges of Asgard, sometimes pillaging small villages. Whether the bug-like creatures truly existed or not, the Vanir knew that a war was likely to be waged on the group responsible for the damage, and since they could not take out their misery on Calder, they did on his daughter instead. The urchins openly jeered and mocked her for her fate, getting no disapproval or reprimand from their parents.

"Ill-starred," Mother Bodil, her caretaker since birth, had said 50 years prior, following a particularly nasty gathering that left Ildri with a bleeding cut above the eye and a tear-stricken face.

"’Tis all you are, and ‘tis all you may ever be. I pray to the Nine not, but the sooner you realize that those filthy striplings do not understand you, my little one, the better. You could be great things, Ildri, but as long as you remain here you will be nothing, perhaps less than nothing."

She had burrowed her head to Mother Bodil's breast then, glad that at least one person cared for her. Perhaps the only person to ever properly care for her, she contemplated, her smile softening. AND, albeit unknowingly, the person who had first introduced her to the magic she now practiced.

She turned another page in the decaying book she held in the small dwelling and thought back to the day she had discovered the tomes. The day had been bitterly cold, the wind howling miserably outside. Some even said that winter had been as cold as the weather in Jotunheim, though Ildri had doubted it highly. With no one to cavort with, she was confined the walls of the abode she lived in with Mother Bodil and the few staff members her father had employed to accommodate them. Not wanting his daughter to seem uneducated or under-fed, Calder, ever about keeping up appearances, had sent tutors for her to study with and a cook to keep them fed. He even sent presents along at times, such as her beloved dagger, though this was for show, as were most of the finer things in her life. Under their guidance, Ildri became, at least in her own mind, well-read and well-versed in the art of combat. With this came a certain sort of arrogance, not unnoticed by others.

After Mother Bodil decided Ildri had been running underfoot for far too long, she sent her off to explore the upper rooms of the house, promising to play a game with her if she stayed quiet for the rest of the afternoon. In one of the rooms, Ildri discovered some of the possessions of her mother's left behind by her father in molding boxes and crates. Unbeknownst to Mother Bodil, Calder had left nearly all of Alva's books on magic behind, perhaps thinking they would be burned or sold elsewhere. His decision had been fueled by hate and remorse, Ildri mused as she ran her fingers over one of the several pages on Divination her mother had marked. He had been unwilling to remember the side of Alva that had so loved the enchantments and soothsaying offered by the tomes. Had she lived, she would have found a place among the Vanir, Ildri thought with a sad smile. The gods of the realm were reveled for their knowledge, foresight, and sorcery. And on Asgard, the beautiful queen Frigga was said to be acquainted with the magical arts well, even to have taught it to one of her sons who was Ildri's own age...

With a slight shake of her head, Ildri turned again to one of the books she held in her hands. These were musings and memories more appropriate for a time when she was less preoccupied. And less likely to get caught in a compromising situation. Although there were no laws against the practice of magic, it would be looked down upon severely that one as young as she was practicing the arts with no guidance, even more so by her father. They would most likely take the books, Ildri thought with a touch of fear as she closed the books and clutched them tightly to her chest. The books, still bearing her mother's handwriting in the margins, were the only bits of her mother she had, maybe the only pieces she would ever have. No deed was worth having them taken.

The changing position of the sunlight streaming in through the broken roof caught Ildri's attention, and she realized with a start that it was almost time for the evening meal. The heat of day was rapidly descending into the chill of night, and gooseflesh broke out across her arms as she rubbed them forcibly. With a snap of her fingers and a small muttered spell, the books rearranged themselves under the large stones that lifted themselves off the ground. Satisfied with her work, Ildri nodded and the stones dropped again, hiding her greatest secret and treasure under the cobblestones of the ramshackle abode. Oh, how she longed for the days when there would be no need for her to speak words or gesture for a spell to be completed, a rueful smile dancing across her lips. She carefully stepped outside of the abode after casting one more careful eye over the inside of the crumbling home. With a slight nod of the head, she threw on her gray cloak and departed for home.  
Deciding she'd had enough of the sprawling meadow for one day, Ildri decided to take the path back to the village through the forest, casting one more wistful glance behind her at the dwelling.

With her head occupied with thoughts of spells being cast and old memories, she didn't notice the sharp sounds of twigs and branches being broken until it was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise it's going to get more exciting soon! I just need to set everything up that can't be rushed, as much as I'd like to sometimes. :-) as always, feel free to comment!


	3. A Turn for the Worse...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?”  
> ― Garth Nix
> 
> “For the likes of you, the path to happiness is one mean son of a bitch of a path.”  
> ― Dean Koontz
> 
> Sorry I uploaded this chapter so late! I've had a lot going on, not to mention that this chapter was a dog to type. Thanks to Lizzy and Eli for putting up with me through it, and that lady at the airport who put up with me staring off into space while I was trying to be inspired and wished me a good of writing day when she left. You guys rock.

With a gasp that could hardly be considered ladylike, Ildri started and turned to face her would-be attackers. Instead, she found the older children of the village, a huddled mass that partly surrounded her. They held unlit torches in their hands, clenched tight as if weapons.  
So possible attackers still, she thought fearfully as she began to slowly edge away and her heartbeat thudded in her ears. Though not cowardly by nature, previous confrontations with the ruffians proved they would venture further than just wounding her with words. She reached down beneath her cloak to find her dagger, Svanesang, and perhaps reassure herself with it, only to find the sheath empty. Foolish girl, she cursed herself, now defenseless against the others and not even able to use any of the spells she knew against them. Seven hundred and three years of disdain, six hundred of schooling, and yet she still was not yet wise enough to do a task so simple as walking home.  
Although the children were apt to wound her mentally as well as physically, she had never done likewise; partly out of fear and partially from some unknown emotion, perhaps guilt, that flooded her body when she opened her mouth to utter an insult. Mother Bodil knew the children's opinions were not entirely their own, and she told Ildri such; because of that, Ildri could not entirely hate any of the children, save Petar. They were but sheep under the influence of their parents and Petar.  
Suspecting insults would only spell more trouble for her, no matter how correct they might be, she preferred the "hide" or "jab at threateningly with her dagger at and pray to the Nine that she was convincing enough to make an escape" method.  
Suddenly Petar, the leader of the group stepped forth. Not only was he older than the other children of the village, Ildri included, but also the only son of the leader of their village. His father, almost being of the same disposition as Ildri's own father, would not let his own son attend the meager schoolhouse the village provided, instead choosing to hire a scholar to teach Petar. Ildri shivered as he smiled charmingly at her before stepping forth.  
"Well, by the Nine! Who is it we have here?" he asked mockingly, his voice booming through the wood. His charming demeanor changed into one of contempt, a sneer marring his face. He circled around her quickly, cloak whirling behind him.  
"It seems the little lady has lost her way in the wood tonight. We would not want her to forget home and...disappear, would we now?"  
Small smiles formed on the faces of the children around her, and Ildri heard their murmurings as she fought back a shiver. They managed to pack even closer together, trapping her further, she noticed with dismay. Finding her voice as her heart thudded in her throat, she spoke.  
"Now, Petar, you know as well as I that if I were to truly be lost in the wood, it would spell trouble for you and your," her eyebrows rose, "comrades as well as I. My father would no doubt send a search party to retrieve me, perhaps even question all the lovely people of the village. Perhaps the more honest ones among them would admit to the insults they have seen you heap upon me. And when they found me, and let me assure you they would, the consequences for you and the others would be quite dire." A small smile ghosted at the edges of her lips, hopeful the threat would do its damage. Just as the silence from Petar and the surrounding children gave her hope her plan might succeed, Petar stepped forth; blue eyes shining with malice, he leaned down to her ear. His hot breath blew aridly across her neck and swept away the hair lying there as he whispered  
"We both know that is not quite true, m'lady. If your father were to learn of your absence from this place, he would do nothing more than rejoice," he smiled nastily as he looked into her tear-filled eyes, "Perhaps even hold a feast to celebrate his good fortune!" He straightened and stood back from Ildri, taking in her rigid posture and clenched fists.  
"Oh, do not weep, my lady," his tone mocking as he brushed a strand of her face. "we treasure your company far too much to let anything so...unsavory happen to you." His eyes brightened and he placed his arm around her shoulders as he spoke her next words. "It just so happens that we were searching for her ladyship tonight. We require your presence this night as we journey through the wood. To forbidden parts." He paused, and Ildri shook his arm from around her. Her eyes brimmed not only with tears, but with hatred as well. If she had had Svanesang in her possession, she would have surely slit his throat as he stood. She was not shocked too terribly by his news of the location of such forays into the wood. She had ventured there several times by herself in her search for a safe place to practice magic. She could not fathom what they had found that interested so, she had deemed the place a waste herself. He began again, his eyes lit with cruelty and glee.  
"Two moons ago, we discovered the ruins of an old temple in one of the forbidden sections of the wood. T'was hidden away in the wood, excepting the clearing that leads to the opening. Sadly, we were lacking the strength required to move the wreckage in front of the entrance so we could venture in." He glanced up from his nails and smiled at Ildri. "That is, until this night."  
She opened her mouth to protest when suddenly Petar's hand was over her mouth; she fought the urge to clamp her teeth down and rip off a finger or two.  
"No, no, m'lady. No protests from you. Many a person has seen the work you can do with that sword off yours, not to mention the dagger. And all the hauling you do for that Nursemaid, of all people. You ARE strong enough to assist us, and you will." His smile was replaced by a menacing stare, one that made Ildri's limbs turn cold under the gaze. She was no fool; she knew that they meant for more to happen than her simply moving some rubble, if that was even the truth of the plans they had for her. Giving Petar a pleading look, Ildri spoke quickly.  
"Mother Bodil is expecting me for the evening meal soon, and we cannot possibly hope to be back before nightfall, we-"  
Petar cut her off abruptly, a look of agitation blooming on his face.  
"WE have already supped this night, and there is little light left in the day. You see m'lady, this is less of a request than I have made it seem." He smiled wickedly as he drew aside his cloak to reveal Svanesang, his incisor teeth gleaming sharply in the dying light.  
Like the fangs of a snake, Ildri thought dully as she heard herself ask where he had found her blade. For an instant, her blood chilled as she thought they had discovered her secret hideaway, but Petar merely grinned.  
"Well, my Lady, you really ought to be more careful when choosing what to wear. Or rather, check your weaponry-holding equipment more ardently."  
Ildri froze as he strode back to her and tore her cloak aside, but he merely shoved two of his fingers through the sheath Svanesang had been in, displaying the hole smugly.  
"Now," he said as he removed his arm from inside her cloak and dug the sharp point of the dagger into her throat, "do let us journey on."  
Ildri, seeing no other options, straightened her cloak and began walking the direction Petar shoved her.  
************************************************************************  
When they finally reached the clearing where the entrance to the temple was located, the tendrils of sunlight had been replaced with the pink hues of sunset. Soon enough it would be nightfall, and they would have to journey back through the wood in the darkness. Never a truly safe task, even for the best of hunters and trackers. At least, that was what they had been told the entirety of their lives. Glancing around, Ildri was disappointed she had not ventured back far enough to find the place. Even with its decay, it was still beautiful. Weeds snaked over the entrance and brown chunks of stone both small and large littered the clearing where they had fallen from the temple. The top of the triangular temple rose high into the trees, barely detectable through the thick crops of them.  
The pack of children huddled together with Ildri in the middle, barred from escape on every side. Their loud stomping and murmurings drew her away from her inspection of the temple. Petar began to speak again, much to Ildri's dismay.  
"Now comes the truly thrilling part," he exclaimed, clapping his hands together once in glee, "All of you," he said as he pointed at the boys, "will be hauling the heavier pieces of wreckage away from the so we may finally gain entry to-"  
"Why not just use the stairs on the outside of the temple? They all lead up to the top, and I am certain it would be faster than moving all the wreckage." Ildri interjected.  
She felt eleven pairs of eyes boring into her after the outburst. No one interrupted their leader, especially a girl who had no claim to their land at all.  
"The stairs on the outside of the temple are crumbling and covered with weeds, something you might have discovered had you observed them closely or closed that shit hole you call a mouth when I was talking!" The words, uttered softly at first, became a scream by the end of the sentence, and he slapped Ildri as he finished speaking. Her cheeks burned with anger and humiliation, her lip bleeding where he struck her. Smoothing his golden hair down, he said "Karles nearly lost his head when we tried to send him up last week. Unless you would like to see him attempt the feat again?"  
She shook her head quickly as one of the boys in the group caught her eye. Ildri knew Petar would make the boy do it, and the blood would be as good as on her hands if he did happen to fall.  
"Pity," he said noncommittally. "Now, the girls will clear away the weeds from the door and the surrounding sides. Oh, but not our special guest. You will be helping the boys move the stones away. And if I hear one complaint out of that mouth of yours or see you idling about, my ill-starred one, I will cut off all your pretty little fingers, one by one. THEN we will see how fancy your swordplay is."  
The other children moved quickly into small groups to complete their assigned tasks, Ildri left alone to do the work of three by herself.  
Ildri's strength came not from countless hours of training as others thought, but rather a spell she had invoked due to her lack of stamina and endurance during her lessons or chores. Of course, she thought ruefully as she as she rolled a large chunk of the temple's stone away, she had never planned on using the spell-induced strength for any task such as the one before her. Ildri continued to move the wreckage as the darkness descended further, beginning to blanket the clearing under its cover. She slowly ventured closer to the ruins as more of the weeds were cleared, hoping to discern the inscriptions. What she saw mystified her; five engravings were marked by the closed entrance, three in some foreign language . The other two were pictures on either side of the door, that of a flaming bird rising out of fire and the other a figure -a woman- holding large swords of some sort over her head, as if in battle. Great wings emerged from behind her back, sweeping and beautiful. Ildri stood transfixed by the pictures, tracing their grimy edges with her forefinger and relishing the feel of the stone underneath. Suddenly, Petar was beside her.  
"It appears you did not listen to my warning, my..." he trailed off suddenly, gazing at the pictures with great interest. His eyes gleamed in the pale light from the moon and the few torches the other children had lit. "It seems we will not be needing the rest of those torches after all. Now, bring the other tools so we may open the doors."  
He placed one large hand on the door, perhaps to test how solid the stone was, and that was when several things happened at once. Numerous massive chunks of stone fell from the temple, causing the other children to cry out and scatter in fear. As Ildri turned to flee, she saw that the largest was about to drop on Petar; he stood paralyzed by fear as the rock rushed down.  
Time seemed to slow down drastically and Ildri realized that she had a choice. As if he heard her thoughts, Petar's eyes sought hers. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead and dripped down, slowly rolling down his cheek like a tear. She saw the dagger pressed to her throat, the cuts and bruises he had inflicted upon her through the years, the tears that had fallen because of his harsh words. And that was when Ildri understood the idea of a choice in this situation was an illusion.  
She grabbed him by the collar and arm and tossed him behind her, perhaps a bit harder than intended. Her attention was so focused on him that she the crash of the slab beside her barely registered, nor did she notice the goodly chunk that had flown off from it. She felt herself fall to the ground, head throbbing and eyes rolling. As she lay looking up at the temple through the trees, she could have sworn there was a fire burning brightly at the top.  
************************************************************************  
Ildri awoke to sunlight streaming in through her bedroom window and warming her face. She blinked confusedly and tried to rise, only to wince in pain as the pounding in her head increased. She slowly lifted her hand to the side of her head and found it heavily bandaged. The ache in her throat and the hunger in her belly told her she had been unconscious for awhile yet. The last thing she remembered before descending into darkness was Petar's shrill screams and a small fire burning in her vision. But surely THAT could not be correct, she thought as she frowned and glanced around her room.  
None had made it to the top of the temple, and it was so desolate and ruined Ildri doubted it was inhabitable. What seemed even more unlikely at this point, however, was that the other children had brought her back to village, much less her own abode. Fear crept into her stomach, dulling the hunger and thirst as she heard footsteps outside her door. P'raps this was all but a dream and she was still lying out in the dirt by the temple, or worse yet, in a torturous branch of Hel realm designed for cowards like her...but no.  
Mother Bodil hustled in with a tub of water and an array of cloths that she nearly dropped when she spotted Ildri sitting upright in her bed, wide-eyed and clutching at the sheets.  
"Oh, Dri! Thank the Nine you have finally awoken! The Healer was not certain how serious the blow to your head was! You are still recovering, my foolish girl, lie down again." She gently pushed Ildri back down against the pillows and began to unravel the bandages on the side of her head.  
"I know the decision to walk alone through the wood was foolish," Ildri began "but let me assure you-"  
"No, my child," Mother Bodil cut in "Much has transpired whilst you were asleep. It is you who needs to give heed to me." Ildri grabbed Mother Bodil's hand apprehensively.  
"How long have I lain here?" she asked, a note of panic slowly rising in her voice.  
Mother Bodil paused and brought the damp cloth to Ildri's head after a moment.  
"Four days," she whispered, dabbing gently at Ildri's wound, "And four days were enough for Odin to decide what punishment would befall you after the...incident."  
Ildri swallowed as her body grew cold.  
"In-Incident?" she stammered, "Mother Bodil, it was not my idea to go to the forbidden realm of the forest. Surely you cannot mean that!"  
Mother Bodil stopped cleaning the wound and brought her hands back down to her lap, still damp cloth soaking a patch on her dress. She closed her eyes as if in a prayer.  
"By the Nine, I wish I would never had let you anywhere near where those ruffians were lurking." She opened her eyes and looked steadily at Ildri, her kindly brown eyes filled with sorrow. "The first child wandered back in after the moon was already high above us. Karles, they said his name was. The parents of the others had already begun to worry, for they could not find a single child that had gone out. The babes and the young were safely in their beds , but not the older lot. I had put your meal back in the kiln, intent on scolding you when you finally strutted in." She smiled briefly, but a frown overtook her face again as she remembered the task at hand. "When I heard the yells from the men of the village, I knew what had happened. My suspicions were confirmed when I learned the urchins had all supped earlier and scampered off the moment they were done. When Karles came back to the village, he told a fantastical tale about all the other children being stuck at the ruins of the old temple. Never mentioned why or how, just that they were. Everyone could scarcely believe it."  
"Wait," Ildri interrupted, her eyes wide, "You know about the ruins?"  
"Yes, Dri. Several of us do. Why do you think it is forbidden to tread there?" her voice rang with thinly veiled annoyance. "Now, hush and let me finish the tale. After the boy told the men where the others were, a search party was sent out to find you all. When they happened upon the clearing, it was utter chaos. The torches had fallen to the ground, either catching some of the grass on fire or completely burning out. Many of the children were weeping, sure some beast was going to discover them and finish them off. 'Tis a shame one did not," she trailed off, smile once again forming on her face. Suddenly, she snapped back.  
"THEN they found that ghastly pissant, Petar. Three broken ribs and a broken arm. All blamed on you. According to him, you threatened him with the dagger your father gave you and forced him and the other children to go to the forbidden section of the forest with you. Your plan was apparently to impel them to clear the wreckage in front of the temple and lock Petar in the temple after that. If they did not comply, you were to cut their fingers off one by one. A genius plan," Mother Bodil said dryly, "had the stones not started to fall again. That is when Petar made the brave and courageous decision to forcibly take the dagger from you. Unfortunately, you pushed him into the path of a large fallen stone, causing his injuries. You were hit in the head with a chunk of stone, giving the other children their chance for escape."  
She paused again, taking in Ildri's pale face and shaking hands.  
"What I find most unusual, however, is that none of the other urchins, not even Karles, said anything about this feat until Petar did."  
"M-Mother Bodil,' Ildri said shakily, "I swear by the Nine, none of this is true. I would never do such a thing! It was they who took ME! I saved him." Ildri began to sob in earnest, out of anguish or fear she knew not.  
"I know dear, I know," Mother Bodil whispered soothingly as she rubbed small circles on Ildri's back, "I am afraid, however, that your father and the All-Father do not see it as such. They took the testimonials of the children and their parents over my own. Petar is now resting comfortably in an Asgardian healing center courtesy of your father, I am afraid."  
Ildri looked up, her eyes wide and brimming with tears.  
"Odin has ruled against me? And," her voice shook, "my own father?"  
Mother Bodil sighed heavily.  
"Yes, my ill-starred one. The Council of Gods is not present in Vanaheim at this moment, so it fell to Odin to find a fitting punishment. Your father's advice was also received. For your crimes, you have been sentenced to the sole restoration of the temple you committed the transgressions at. The other villagers are not pleased, of course," she snorted. "They would rather you be taken back to Asgard and placed in the palace dungeons with the more dangerous criminals, not only because of who you are or who your father is, but also the myths about the place..."  
Ildri was as still as a statue.  
"My father is allowing this?" she asked numbly.  
"Yes, Dri. I am afraid he pushed for a much harsher punishment, but I reminded he and the All-Father that you are but a child yet, only seven hundred and three years. You will begin the task as soon as the Healer sees you fit."  
Ildri wiped her face calmly, devoid of emotion. She had been betrayed not only by the boy she had willingly saved, but her own father as well. No tears would solve the problem, only work and the consolation that some day she could leave this place and its people forever. She realized now was not the time for cowardice or self-pity, but bravery and compliance.  
"'Tis best that I eat and drink soon, then. Let the task be drawn out no further than need be."  
Mother Bodil stood from the bed and smoothed Ildri's hair down lovingly. She walked to the door to fetch a meal for her, but Ildri called out her name as she was about to step out. She turned to face the girl.  
"I saw a fire at the top of the temple as I lay there four days ago. Are there any that live in the temple?"  
Mother Bodil stared at her, eyes closely guarded.  
"No, Ildri. None that I know of." she said evenly, pinching the apron in front of her skirt nervously. She then shut the door quickly and with a small click, Ildri was left alone with her swirling thoughts once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next chapter will be an interlude of sorts to explain the "myth" surrounding the temple.The story I tell will be confirmed/clarified by a later character. You guys will also be one step ahead of Ildri for the moment, because she's not going to have any clue about the place she's working until later. :-) Thanks for reading and feel free to comment (hopefully nice things)!


	4. Interlude: The Fable of the Phoenix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?”  
> ― J.K. Rowling,
> 
> “Truth is singular. Its 'versions' are mistruths.”  
> ― David Mitchell
> 
> Thank you as always to the lovely Lizzy for putting up with my crap and still managing to love me. You go, Glen Coco.

**Interlude**

Excerpt taken from _Stories of Our Two Sister Lands_ by Bjarte, a book in the Royal Asgardian Library.

 

************************************************************************

 

Chapter XXXVI

 

_The Phoenix of Vanaheim_

 

According to the Vanir, the day the Phoenix entered into Vanaheim was a day like none other. Never had the sky been more brightly lit than when she fell from it.

 

Instead of falling into one of the larger cities that grace the realm, she happened upon a small village that was a day's journey away from the seas and surrounded by wood, where all the inhabitants rushed to aid her.

 

They were met with a startling sight upon finding the clearing where she had crashed. There was no sign of a woman, but there were two great swords and a satchel lying in a great pile of ashes. After deliberating among themselves for a few moments, the decision to alert the god of the realms was made.

 

After two messengers were sent off, the woman burst forth from the ashes. She was naked, but her fiery red hair and bright flames covered her like a lover, gently caressing her body. Her eyes were yellow like that of a bird, staring down all in the clearing while her large  red and yellow feathered wings that spanned six feet or more flapped around her.

 

No one knew who she was or from where she hailed, and she offered no answers. Even when asked her name, she simply scoffed and said the name was unpronounceable in their simple tongue. The only name she offered was the Phoenix, possibly after her race of people. The gracious gods of the realm tried to persuade her to stay with them in the main village, however she declined. They allowed her to stay in the village she had plummeted by, although fearing she might be a sorceress or criminal escaping from another realm. Her ability to not only summon fire, but also control it like she was its master, did nothing to abate their unease.

 

Despite these traits, she was still said to be very beautiful, and Vanir from all surrounding villages flocked to see her. The villagers were so taken with her that they constructed a temple for her in their wood, all hoping to win her affection. It was said one such a man did, a fisherman by the name of Bjorn.

 

Over the course of a thousand years, their love burned brightly, shining through the suspicion and unease that surrounded them. The Phoenix gazed upon Bjorn one day and saw his aging body. She realized he would grow old and die one day, unlike her, the immortal being that would continue to live until the end of the universes. She left soon after to retrieve the substance that gave her eternal life, promising the task would take no more than a fortnight.

 

After she departed, he resolved to find her a gem that might serve as a declaration of his love for her, as well as his intent to marry her. He skimmed the bottoms of the many fishing holes scattered throughout Vanaheim, only stopping when he had found one as radiant as she. After finding one suitable enough, he journeyed back to the village to have it placed upon a ring. Alas, Fate had deemed it would not be so.

 

On the trek back to the hamlet, he was attacked and killed by unknown adversaries, who then seized the body. Bjorn's flesh was peeled away from his body and hung behind him like the wings of his beloved. He was then nailed to the wall of the room at the top of the Phoenix's temple, surrounded by statues and gifts made for her; the gem he had so painstakingly sought out was stuffed in his open mouth.

 

The Phoenix, having sensed something was wrong with her paramour, returned with the elixir, only to find her lover still nailed to wall in her temple, a mockery. Her tears, said to heal even the most infirm, did nothing on the lifeless body. She cut him down, using her magic to turn his essence into a few of the stars above.

 

Her grief and rage were incomparable. She vowed revenge on those who had committed the crime, going as far to accuse the villagers and gods of the realm of slaughtering him. She proceeded to burn half the village down in her haste. After this, the gods and villagers came together, bent on driving her away from Vanaheim. The Phoenix flew again to the top of the temple, escaping into one of the statues of herself, bound in magic none were capable of breaking.

 

The gods, worried smashing the statue completely would unleash her or trap her and bring the wrath of her race down upon the rest of the realm, elected to leave the statue there, only smashing the wings of the statue.

 

The scrolls and writings that had been commissioned of her story disappeared that day, as well as her books on magic and skilled fighting maneuvers. The elixir was never recovered, nor were her swords or the diamond Bjorn attained. Whether they were burned, stolen, or merely hidden, no one knows.

 

The villagers were told never to utter her name again, and to leave the temple to fall to ruin. None were ever held accountable for the crime committed that day, nor was the Phoenix ever cleared of hers.

 

To this day, the temple remains there, almost forgotten except by the few that were mere children when debacle occurred.

 

And to the best of anyone's knowledge, the Phoenix remains there as well, silently watching the people of Vanaheim and waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week (hopefully next week) when I post again, it'll be back to our girl Ildri and whatever "fun" stuff she's up to. She will be having a few guests, so stay tuned, folks! And keep in mind that this was an excerpt taken from a book in the Asgardian Royal Library... ;-)  
> As always, feel free to comment. I actually love that a lot!


	5. ...Or the Better?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “When things go wrong, you'll find they usually go on getting worse for some time; but when things once start going right they often go on getting better and better.”  
> ― C.S. Lewis
> 
> Oh my gosh, you guys. So sorry about the gap between posting! School takes a lot out of me these days, but I've already started the next chapter and I'm really excited about it! Anyway, hope the wait was worth it and thank you to my lovely Beta Lizzy for urging me along. Enjoy!

Ildri watched as another bead of her sweat fell slowly to the ground, joining its brethren on the floor of the topmost room of the temple. Thanking the Nine for the small amount of shade she was granted, she slowly pushed the unruly stray hairs that had escaped her braid out of her face. She sighed and grabbed the canteen Mother Bodil had thoughtfully filled for her, along with the meager lunch in her satchel. As she bit into her apple, she reflected on the past fifty years and how much closer she was to being done with her sentence.

After the healer had finally declared her fit to begin the punishment, guards had been assigned to regularly to oversee her progress and ensure she completed the workload by herself with no assistance from the villagers. Ildri snorted and polished the apple on her tunic. Of course, there had been no help from the villagers. The only person who had supported her through the whole mess was Mother Bodil, and her aging bones would hardly allow her to complete the work Ildri had to do. The guards seemed to realize this after a time, and eventually their numbers dwindled to two. Now, more often than not, these guards could be found relaxing in the small tavern the village housed while Ildri toiled away in the wood.

She smirked and tossed the finished apple core out of the temple, seeing it tumble to the ground below with a satisfying smack. They thought of her as no more than a child and so little a threat that they could get drunk and still fight her off if need be. _Being alone so often had its advantages, of course_ , she thought as she dusted her hands off and turned back into the room. It meant she could practice magic cautiously and even use it to repair the crumbling structure. Unfortunately, she could not mend the entire temple within a short time without arousing the suspicions of the guards or townspeople. The estimated time she had been told the completion of the project and sentence would take was seventy-five years, but Ildri was not sure she could prolong the project another twenty-five years. The biggest mystery of the temple, however, was the reason for its existence and the statue and engravings enclosed.

Ildri peered quickly out the entrance of the temple to assure herself no one was around. When she was momentarily appeased, she turned and hastily pulled off the blanket covering the beautiful, albeit crumbling statue that stood in the center of the room. The statue, a chalky white color, was of a lovely woman, though it had begun to crumble at the skirts and feet. Likewise, there were great ridges on the back of the statue where something, perhaps wings, had last been.

Ildri rubbed absently at a smudge on the dress. It seemed no matter how hard she tried, new spots of grime always appeared. She traced the statue's cheekbones lightly while standing on the tips of her toes, unable to reach any further. _Strange creatures are we,_ she thought indifferently as she wiped the grime that had stained her hand onto her tunic, _able to be some of the most lonely and beautiful at times, horrific at others._ Shaking her head slowly, Ildri muttered a quick incantation to raise some of the stones off the floor. She smiled as she crouched down and reached in the hole the floating stones had left, clutching her mother's spell books and placing them on her crouched knees. Thanks to her jailers, she had grown exponentially in sorcery in the fifty years she had been working on the temple.

Ildri suddenly stiffened and paused her movements as she heard a faint buzzing noise coming from outside. She stood quickly, knocking the books off her lap and onto the floor, and walked to the opening of the temple where she could see the surrounding wood. At the end of the walkway, perhaps half a mile away, there was a large golden beam blistering into the ground. Burning many of the trees she had meticulously planted there, no less, Ildri noted dully as she watched, fear creeping up her spine. _Are the beings from above finally attacking?_ she thought frantically, finally shaking herself out of the daze and gripping the edge of the entryway. She'd never put much credence to the thought and had nothing to defend herself, save her magic. Suddenly, the beam stopped as if switched off from above, and Ildri got her first glimpse of the beings gathered there.

She squinted at the people, filled with relief until she noticed the banners they carried. _But surely they had to be incorrect, or she gravely misinformed,_ Ildri reasoned to herself. For in her lifetime, the All-father had never visited her village, nor brought his two sons with him on the brief occasions he had come to the cities of Vanaheim. But yet...

The markings seared into the ground could be none other than the Royal Asgardian Family's. And sure enough, Ildri saw the hurried running of her two guards approaching from the way of the village tavern. She sniggered, but stopped when she looked down at the dingy brown tunic she wore, the worn leggings and the ripped smock. She peered at the small group of guards and royalty as they moved closer. Perhaps of she had enough time she could magic herself clean...She turned, suddenly remembering her mother's books scattered across the floor of the room. She nudged them as gently as she could manage back toward the hole before carefully placing them back inside. Sending a silent plea up to the Nine that no one would see the green flash, she muttered a quick spell that replaced the stone and sealed it tightly. _Perfect,_ she thought as she tried desperately to smooth her braid down, _now twice as sweaty AND filthy. Perhaps even fit to live in a livestock pen._

Ildri ran back to the entrance, unsure if she was to meet them at the bottom or remain where she stood. She opted for staying at the apex, unwilling to make another journey up the hundreds of stairs unaided by the smallest bit of magic. A sudden thought struck her, and she felt cold in the warm summer air. What if her father was in the party? It had been many a moon since he had visited or even talked to her, but if today were to be that day...But no. When she ran her eyes hungrily over the men, her father's eyes did not stare back at her, only the solemn gazes of the guards and the narrowed eyes of the All-father. Behind them, the young heir apparent Thor smiled and laughed at something, nudging his companion playfully. Ildri squinted again, trying to see the fellow practitioner of magic. Her breath caught in her throat. _He is beautiful,_ she thought dazedly, _Sullen, and every inch the very picture of resentment, but beautiful nonetheless._ She had always found darker haired people more alluring, especially after the Petar incident, and relished his tidy black hair, ivory skin, and full lips. She smiled and wondered what color his eyes were, hoping to see the green of her own.

Suddenly, she shook herself and frowned. _What was she thinking? He was a Prince of Asgard, and most likely betrothed as was his brother. And boys, no matter how beautiful or mysterious, most decidedly did not associate with criminals like herself._ Mother Bodil had reminded her of this often enough, especially in the past few years as she had begun to mature and develop.

Stepping forth and placing her hands behind her back, she plastered a smile on her face as the party ascended the final few feet remaining between them. Ildri, unsure of what to do, dropped a curtsy and tried not to be overcome by the combination of heat and fear that had begun to curdle in her stomach. She opened her mouth to speak, but as she did, her eyes met a cool green stare. A stare that seemed to burn and sear. Flustered, she shut her mouth quickly and bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood. _Wonderful,_ she thought heatedly, _no sense of restraint or control. Over my own body, no less._ Finally, she dropped her eyes and said "Good day, my lords. Vanaheim welcomes you. To what do we owe this honor?" It was silent for a few moments, and Ildri slowly raised her eyes. Odin met her gaze, and his lone eye searched her face as he stood with an arrogant tilt to his head. His fabled spear, Gungnir, rested in his tightly clenched fist, threatening with its golden power.

"Where are your guards, prisoner?"

Ildri brought her hands down to her sides, unaware of her rapidly stiffening posture. She nodded towards the still smoldering pathway to the temple. "I believe that is them rushing from the wood now, They grew..." she paused, "thirsty. They required refreshment." Her eyes slid to the boys' with a small trace of amusement, but she hastily cast them down once more.

The guards panted with exhaustion as they finally reached the crest, sweat dripping down their foreheads and glistening in the sunlight. Odin eyed them with contempt as they shuffled to the front of the group and bowed before him. His voice boomed and echoed through the temple and wood when he spoke a few moments later.

"I come here today to show my sons how the lesser prisoners are punished in the Realms to prepare one of them to be a fair future ruler, and what do I find? Two guards hardly competent enough to piss, much less watch over one solitary criminal. And that same criminal," he said with distaste as he extended an arm towards her, "idling about and not showing the proper formalities when we arrived. Scanning over us as if were pieces of meat. Is this the order and justice my sons are to learn from?"

His voice rang with disgust as he banged his spear roughly on the stone, and Ildri felt her mouth and eyes tighten against her will. She opened her mouth to speak when the youthful princeling Thor cut her off.

"But Father," he exclaimed, moving closer to Odin's tense body and placing a hand on his wide shoulder. "Loki and I have learned much on this journey, have we not, Brother?"

Loki's eyes shifted a fraction, his head tilting slightly.

"I suppose."

Thor shot his brother a look before turning back to his father.

"First and foremost, you have taught us that to be a successful ruler, one must have mercy and forgiveness. This criminal has done much in the years she has been allotted, though she certainly stands to do more, would you not say, Father?"

Odin lifted a critical eye to Ildri, peering at her dirty clothing and blank face before glancing at his son.

"She certainly does have much more to accomplish before her sentence is completed. But of her insolence..."

"Father," Loki cut in suddenly, " she has hardly had the training and lessons on decorum we have taken. Provided that she is merely a common villager, we can hardly expect her to do more than stand there like a fool."

Ildri felt the gratitude she had began to amass ebb away slowly, being replaced with embarrassment and a dull anger as her cheeks flamed. She clenched her jaw indignantly and wished she could use her magic to dull her emotions further. _Or blast the damned group away, she grumbled inwardly._

Loki looked vaguely uncomfortable at first, but a small bit of warmth bloomed on his face, dulling the ever-present condescending look. Thor shot her a look before he joined in the laughter, and Ildri let the anger bleed off her face. She realized speaking out would hardly help her, and was more likely to make the All-Father punish her by extending her sentence. Or making more visits, which could be considered the far greater punishment. She bowed her head humbly and waited until the laughter died down to speak.

"Your kingship, my princes, do forgive my behavior. I meant no impudence by my actions and am grievously sorry for the discord that has came because of it. As the Prince has said, I am but a simple girl and wretch.”

She bowed fully before the group then, glad to hide her face and true feelings from them. Although the cracked stones beneath her aching knees only hurt her further, she did not rise until Odin grudgingly ordered her to do so.

“Get up, girl.” He shook his head at her slowly as she rose, his eye narrowing even further even as she dusted the dirt from her knees. “I suppose, just this once, your minor transgressions can be forgiven. Never forget the former, however. The people of Vanaheim and Asgard shall not.” he said with a note of finality. “You may have done much so far with the structure, but you still have much to complete and fix, especially within yourself. Show us the topmost room. I wish to see all you have done there.” he commanded gruffly.

Ildri, hoping the ordeal would soon be over, nimbly ran to the top, exhaling and panting softly as she watched the rest of the troop climb forth. By the Nine, there was nothing she would have liked more than to be done with the whole mess entirely, she realized, grimacing slightly. Two amused pairs of eyes met her own and she quickly averted her eyes and adopted a blank face. It would do no good if she angered the rest of the family, especially by making faces at their father, no matter how rightfully she felt in doing so. Turning slightly to look in the room and assure herself all was hidden, Ildri realized she had left the statue uncovered in the center. A flair of panic went up, but she quickly subdued it. There were no laws against unveiling statues, at last as far as she knew. And she would be damned to Hel if she was going to let them take it from her. As the group marched slowly past her into the room, Thor drifted beside her and pressed a few folded pieces of parchment into her hand. He winked as he did so, but a glance at his darker-haired brother told her he was just as confused as she. She hurriedly stuffed the bundle into her tunic with slightly shaking hands, wondering what he had to say to her. She stepped into the room after the brothers entered. Odin stood in front of the statue, gazing up at it with indifference. His lack of emotion disturbed Ildri slightly, for she had imagined whomever saw it would be as filled with awe as she had, or at least have a glimmer of curiosity, of _any_ emotion. After several moments, he turned sharply to Ildri, who had pushed her way to the front of the group. 

“What a beautiful statue.” he murmured. His eyes were narrowed as a small, vicious grin appeared on his face. “Quite a shame, what happened to her, is it not?” 

Ildri felt a flush creep across her cheeks. He _knew_ she did not know of the history, and her pride prevented her from simply saying no and being ridiculed again. She bowed her head slightly. 

“As you say, All-Father.” 

Odin smirked, having received his answer. He opened his mouth again, perhaps to hurl another insult her way, but Thor cut in.

“Father, should we not be taking our leave soon? We still have much to see and learn, alas the day is only so long.” his voice rang with false regret, a note of muffled laughter beneath it. 

Ildri felt him shift behind her, and then Loki spoke.

“Thor is quite correct, surprising as that may be. We must still visit the Fengsel districts, and tour the Skyldig realm. Not that this has not been... _interesting.”_ he concluded, his voice dripping with disdain. “But you know how Mother feels about us being late to sup.” 

On that note his voice seemed to warm a bit, and when she turned her head a fraction to look at him, she finally saw a bit of emotion that was different from the boredom and arrogance that had served as his primary expression during the visit: it was love. Dully, she wondered what it would feel like to have a parent that cared about you without fail, that wondered where you were or got upset if you were not home in time for the evening meal. Then she chastised herself for such thoughts. She still had Mother Bodil, and as the good Mother had so often told her, Self-pity became no one.

As she stood there in thought, the men started to drift out, leaving only she and the royal family at last. Odin regarded her sternly, golden eye patch winking in the the light of the sun.

“Take care, daughter of Calder. I will be speaking to him of this visit. He will be proud of the work you have completed so far, I have no doubt.”

At this, Ildri almost laughed in his face. She could take down a whole army of the Beings and he would most likely still not crack so much as a smile towards her, she was certain. Odin lifted an eyebrow, looking at her barely concealed smile.

“Something you would like to say?” he asked, a note of impatience creeping into his voice as he shifted his spear around. 

“Uh, no, your excellency. I merely wanted to thank you again for the lightened sentence and your forgiveness of my transgressions. I can only hope one of your sons will be as fair of a ruler as yourself.” 

She maintained eye contact with him through the exchange, hoping he would believe her and leave before she offended him once more.

Odin gazed steadily at her, pausing for a moment before turning to leave. When he came to the entrance, he swung around to look at her.

“Tis always a pleasure to meet the criminal offspring of one of my leading military personnel and closest friends. Do continue to work as diligently as you have been. The place is must improved since last I saw it.” He paused and looked at the statue above her head, his eyes hard. “If you had been my child and done and done deeds such as this when I did so much as your father does for you, I would have had you banished you to another realm. I have a war to fight, sons to teach, and yet here you are, insolent and disobedient as your father said you would be. How the realms function with people like you that would kill their fellow villagers on a whim I will never understand. You may wish to travel to Asgard when you are finished, but I think that you will find that a most _unwise_ decision.” He lifted his head, eyes gleaming and teeth flashing. “If it pains me just to look at you, can you imagine how it might be for your father? For the people of Asgard? Find another realm or dimension to take you in.” 

And with a toss of his cape, he disappeared down the steps and out of Ildri' sight. Loki followed close behind, but not before he flicked his eyes towards the spot where her books were hidden and shot her a small smile. His eyes, cat-like and as cold and green as emeralds, made her flush as she felt a shiver of cold go down her spine. Her stomach roiled, not only with fear for her books, but also Odin's harsh words and the truth she feared lied within them. Surely he could not know her secret; she had concealed them as she always did, and no one had ever came close to discovering her secret before. She clenched her hands into fists at her side, relishing the bite of her nails into her palms.

At last, she and Thor were the only two in the deserted room. She eyed him carefully. Talking with him would only bring her more pain and suffering, she was sure. Ildri began to step towards the door when his voice stopped her.

“Wait. Please.” he pleaded.

She stilled, scanning his bright blue eyes. Beside his might and bulk, Ildri felt very small indeed. Though he had seemed kind enough earlier, word of his arrogance and bullheadedness spread far and wide throughout the realms. Though she could hardly blame a body for THAT. That trait had gotten her into several predicaments over the course of her life, one she was currently paying for.

Thor, walking closer to her, smiled charmingly, abate a little sadly, at her before pushing his golden her nervously out of his face.

“I apologize for my father and his,” he paused, looking away, “cruel words. His nerves are being tried quite sharply now, and I do not think taking us to visit the lesser criminals of the realms is helping greatly.” 

His eyes shifted back to hers, sparkling and making Ildri feel more at ease than she had in a great while.

“Tis no bother.” she replied, the corners of her mouth turning up in a small smile. “I do believe I go through more insults in one day than your father is willing to afford me.” 

Thor opened his mouth, but before any words were spoken, he was cut off by a scathing bellow of “THOR!”

Loki's sharp eyes peeked over the bottom of the doorway.

“It would seem that we require your presence in order to leave.” His eyes shifted to Ildri slowly. “Could you so grace us with it?”

Thor laughed loudly, and the booming sound startled Ildri and made her jump. She had never been so close to men that were quite so noisy while on Vanaheim.

“Of course, brother!” he roared, clapping Ildri roughly on the back. “You will have to travel to Asgard when your sentence is complete. Even if my father does not deem it a favorable idea, I think it is quite an excellent one.”

Ildri doubted that either of their fathers would be thrilled with that prospect, but she smiled at him nonetheless.

“I will give the idea some thought, your grace.” she quipped cheekily, curtsying lightly as she spoke. 

He laughed again as she did so, but Loki's scowl deepened as he watched the exchange.

“Brother.” he hissed at Thor. “We are needed elsewhere.” 

Thor rolled his eyes good naturedly and beamed at Ildri.

“Until next time, my fair criminal.” He grabbed her hand and placed a kiss on the center jauntily after he finished speaking, winking one blue eye at her before sauntering to the door. 

Ildri blushed and could not help but feeling a pang of desire. Only a small one though, for she knew of his many conquests throughout the realm. Loki's glower had deepened so far that Ildri was sure it would become a permanent fixture on his face. As Thor stepped by him, Loki stepped back inside the doorway of the room, staring intently at her. He reached into the folds of his long leathers, apparently searching for something. He searched through all the creases of his clothing, becoming increasingly frustrated as he could not find what he was rummaging for. His eyes met hers searchingly and he began to speak before he was abruptly interrupted by a cheerful Thor.

“And do not forget to read what I gave you!” he practically purred, dragging Loki out while he spoke. 

Loki shot one last irritated glance at her before both he and his brother disappeared from sight. Ildri shook her head from side to side, bewildered by the whole afternoon. Hesitantly she drew out the pieces of parchment out from where she had hidden it, studying the thick folds. She clutched them in her hand tightly and strode briskly towards the door, watching as the group made its way down the stairs and to the path below. They stood in a tight formation when they reached where they'd arrived at, waiting when suddenly an enormous beam roared down from the sky and nearly blinded her. She drew her hands in front of her eyes, almost dropping the parchment in the process. When the noise had ceased, Ildri slowly brought her hands down and glanced around. They were gone. In their place was one of the ancient runes of Asgard, ruining another section of the pathway.  _Of course,_ Ildri thought with a snort. 

“Hey you!” one of the guards shouted at her. “Stop standing around up there and get back to work before we have to use one of these on you!” The one pointed his spear “menacingly” at her, and she rolled her eyes. 

Feeling her head begin to pound, Ildri rubbed her brow and stepped back into the temple's room. She examined the folded papers carefully, wondering what a prince of Asgard could have to say to her. Or what another had been trying to say. With a slight tremble, she carefully unfolded the papers and was hit with several emotions all at once. Annoyance took up the center stage, for the pieces of parchment were blank. Huffing, she went to fold them up and perhaps save them for later use, but as her eye hit the section of room where the books were hidden, she wondered if the papers were magicked blank. Though it was doubtful Thor was the magical brother, the stories of the girls of the village she had eavesdropped on could be incorrect. Ildri contemplated these things before glancing out the doorway of the room. She saw her guards sitting down at the bottom of the steps, paying her no mind. Although she hated using magic while others were close by, she decided to make an exception for the second time that day. She stepped back into the farthest corner of the room, lightly whispering every incantation she could think of that would reveal the contents of the pages. Slowly, the letters bloomed across the top page. Ildri's face lit up and she sent up a silent prayer up to her mother.

“The Phoenix of Vanaheim.” she read quietly, eyebrows arching up confusedly. 

She glanced at the back of the statue, wondering if it were a story about her. A stolen story, no less. Reading slowly, she walked over to the feet of the statue and sat down. When she had finished reading a while later, there were tears brimming in her eyes.

“By the Nine.” she whispered. “It _is_ you. I am so sorry.” she breathed. Ildri stood and touched as far as her limbs would allow. “So very sorry. Maybe outcasts like ourselves will always find one another. Maybe that is all we need. To know we are not always so alone as we imagined.” 

She looked tenderly at the statue one last time before turning with the papers to the outside where the soft light of twilight was beginning to bloom.  _Maybe we are never really alone at all,_ she thought, smiling faintly at the outlines of stars she could see shining dimly in the sky. Tears traced their way down her cheeks and she clutched the papers to her chest as she leaned against the doorway and bit back a sob. 

 ****************************************************

As Ildri read the papers at the feet of the Phoenix, two brothers stared at the sky in the Toma District of the galaxy and tried to fight their growing feelings of unease as they watched their father stalk through the fields where the prisoners worked. As he screamed at the warden and guards for the “lack of discipline displayed by the guards and prisoners alike”, Thor and Loki glanced at one another.

“Should we stop him?” Thor asked mildly.

“No.” Loki replied, his tone bored. “No let him get it out now. Maybe he will finally give us some peace later.” He sighed and cracked his neck, shooting Thor a pained look.

“Excellent! Let us talk of more... interesting matters then.” he spoke lowly, winking at his brother.

Loki's face grew even more pained. “What is it this time?” he sighed.

“You know! What did you think of the girl? Ildri?” he asked excitedly, a grin spreading across his face.

Loki rolled his eyes.

“I think,” he started slowly “that you stole what I was planning to give to her and claimed it as your own to gain her favor so you make take yet ANOTHER girl from me.” His voice rose as he spoke and was nearly a yell by the time he had finished. His arms crossed as he glared at Thor.

“Yes, but other than that.” Thor waved his hand impatiently. “And no need to yell, brother.”

Loki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, defeat in the slope of his shoulders.

“She is a criminal and hardly more than a peasant. And one day, my future subject-”

“One of _our_ future subjects, you mean.” Thor interjected.

“Do not remind me, _brother.”_ Loki hissed. 

“Well, I think she was fair, though not as fair as the good Lady Sif.” Thor stated smugly. “Very spirited. Perhaps worth the conquest, perhaps not. But I have to ask brother,” his eyebrows scrunched together as he questioned Loki. “Why did you seek to give her the pieces of parchment. When I unfolded it, twas but blank sheets. I tried writing on them, but the marking simply vanished.” 

Loki grinned triumphantly. “Good. The spell worked then. I have told you this once before. Calder's wife, Alva, practiced magic before their darling daughter was born and killed her. Mother recalled her as one of the best wielders of divination Asgard had ever seen. The books she practiced with could be of great use to me, and since they are not in Asgard, they must be in Vanaheim. I could practically feel the power seeping through that temple. Unfortunately, the books are bound to the people that fins them, only attainable if given to another or if the caster dies.” he concluded, raising his eyebrows at Thor.

“And you do not think that Calder burned them?” Thor asked dubiously. “he has made his stance on magic most clear. And his daughter.” he added, almost as an afterthought. 

“No, no! But you see,” Loki said excitedly, shifting from foot to foot. “There is nothing more that Calder hates more than Magic or perhaps his daughter, but there is one thing he shows clearly besides hatred or loyalty to Father, and that is the love of his late wife. He loved the wench with nearly all of his being, and that was his downfall. And most likely the thing that kept him from burning her spellbooks, no matter how strongly he abhorred it.” 

Loki beamed confidently at his brother.

“Now, if the books are there like I believe and the girl has found them, she will be able to read the story I so conveniently found during my studies, and I will have my answer. With those eyes she was making at me, securing the books should be no great feat. Unfortunately,” he added sourly “You taking the papers complicated my plan. Now I will have to find another way to contact her and see if she is what I think. With Father's recent words to her, I fear going to her or her coming to us will be a harder task than meant to be.”

Thor stared at him, unabashed curiosity and a bit of disgust on his face.

“And that is the only reason you spoke to her?” he asked, his voice incredulous. “For your own personal gain? Did you have a hand in where we visited today?”

“Oh, brother.” Loki replied jeeringly. “Tis not so much different from your trysts with the countless women across the realms. I am just hoping for a far better outcome than one night in some whore's bed.”

Thor's mouth dropped open, his face showing a mixture of anger and disbelief, but Odin strode over then and interrupted whatever he was going to say.

“Come on, boys.” he said briskly as he motioned to the guards that were standing idly around them. “I have had quite enough of this foolishness today. On the morrow, we will continue our tour through the other realms.” He flexed his jaw and rubbed his eye irritably. “Heimdall, we are quite ready.” he spoke into the sky.

The two boys scowled at one another for a few seconds before they were beamed up, both wanting to continue the argument but neither wanting to invoke the wrath of their father. But then they were enveloped into the familiar light of Heimdall's beam, just two specks floating through the chaotic and lonely vacuum of space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eek! Hope you guys liked this chapter! I've combined characteristics of the Asgardians from the comic books and movie-ish times. So if something seems off, especially personality-wise, just remember that all of this takes place roughly 200-300 years before the movies. :) And that Odin is really freaking prejudiced against Ildri. Anyway, feel free to comment, it spurs me along. :) Love you guys!


	6. The Red String of Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how long it took to post this chapter! Blame my fabulous Beta, Lizzy. On another note, happy belated Christmas to you all and I hope you all have an incredible 2015! 
> 
> **************  
> "...according to this myth, the gods tie an invisible red cord around the ankles of those that are destined to meet one another in a certain situation or help each other in a certain way and are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstances."  
> -Chinese Myth
> 
> “If our destiny stems from our name, then I weep for the flower named Wilt.”  
> ― Jarod Kintz

The day the sky fell was a day like no other. Later, Ildri would think about it and wonder when the difference had been noticeable. She would ask herself if she could have caught it and done something differently, read the signs and stopped things before they even happened.

 

Perhaps it was the way the sun broke over the horizon, just a tad bit brighter than usual, giving a sickly tinge to everything it touched. Or maybe the smell of rot that hung low in the air and drifted through her open window, fruit decaying under the trees as the late season claimed them. Maybe even the wind and the sharp chill that occupied it as it steadily blew and knocked the golden leaves off the trees of the wood.

 

But no. As Ildri got up that morning, there was nothing more on her mind than going to the temple and finishing that day's work. There was something off, perhaps just one thing, but Ildri shoved it to the back of her mind and thought about the day before her instead.

 

he winter needs to be done, she thought as she stretched and yawned, looking around blearily. She groaned lightly as she rubbed her eyes, wishing she had gone to bed earlier instead of reading the Asgardian history book her tutor had supplied her with. She shook her head slowly, closing her eyes. _Hopeful for a future that will never come_ , she mocked herself angrily. She had tried reasoning with herself, saying that the book would help her better understand her magic, her own culture. But she knew the real reason behind her actions, and it lied promptly within the damned thing she called a heart.

 

In the five years that had passed since the All Father's visit, Ildri had tried to focus only on her magic and prolonging the completion of the temple. While she had not been in contact with Thor nor Loki, she held out hope that when she left, no escaped, Vanaheim, she would be able to practice freely in Asgard. The threats of the All Father still rang sharply in her ears, but the possibility of belonging was enough to quiet them, though nothing could drown them completely. Sighing, she glanced around her room, the tree outside her window casting shadows on her pale blue walls. Shivering under the blankets, she swore at herself for leaving the window open yet again. She quickly threw off the blankets, bracing herself for the shock and running across the floor to slam the window shut. _Strange_ , she mused as she turned from looking out the window, _Mother Bodil usually begins a fire by this time in the morning._ She hurriedly threw on her clothing, pressing into her wolf-skin boots and throwing her her burgundy cloak over her shoulders and fastening with a speed that would have impressed even the haughtiest of boys. She grabbed her black gloves and eyed her unmade bed as she pulled them on. Sighing softly, she tossed the blankets back onto her bed in somewhat of an order, knowing Mother Bodil would tut at her if she did not do so. _And Mother Bodil has been through quite enough in the past hundred years_ , Ildri recalled as she tucked her unruly hair behind her ears. Not to mention Mother Bodil was quickly approaching the later thousands in age; few survived past that. Chewing her lip, Ildri stepped back from her bed to admire her handiwork. A smile tugged at her mouth, and she gave the bed one last glance before turning to open the door. She knew it was passable, just barely, but passable nonetheless. And that she would get an exasperated, albeit loving, look from Mother Bodil, something that was an endless source of joy and amusement for Ildri. She hesitated before grabbing the doorknob, unsure why the morning felt so different from the ones past. She turned back around, looking at her room, trying to see it through the eyes of a stranger. The mussed bed, the books spilling out everywhere, her clothing shoved haphazardly in cabinets and over her dressing screen.

 

Ildri leaned back against the door, feeling the handle press into her back. She shook her head slowly. 758 years of existence and she had still never managed to fully make something her own. She clumsily grasped the knob then, suddenly feeling suffocated. She stepped into the hallway, shutting the door tightly behind her. It made a loud noise in the hallway, and she jumped guiltily. No shouts greeted her at the sound, however, nor did the lights of any fire as she ventured down the hall to the small kitchen where she had her morning meal. Frowning, Ildri paused in the doorway of the kitchen., eyes roving over the bread and cheese on the table. The room was just as cold and deserted as the rest of the abode, which was odd considering Mother Bodil and the rest of the staff was at least moving by that time most mornings, although Mother Bodil would sometimes go to light a candle and say a quick prayer to her gods for her dead son of a morning. Ildri hastily went to light a fire in the hearth, cursing that it was the one bit of simple magic that kept eluding her grasp. After brushing her hands on her tunic, she swiftly stepped forth to make herself a morning mead before leaving for the temple. She sat with a thump at the table, deciding to check for Mother Bodil in her room on her way out. She had only eaten half of the bread and cheese she had sliced herself when there was a large bang on the roof of the house. Ildri dropped the milk she had been holding and cursed as the liquid spilled over the table and onto her clothing. Nimbly throwing a cloth over the mess, she bolted to the back door, grabbing Svanesang from its perch almost as an afterthought. She pushed out the back, running around the front and craning her neck up to see what had made the noise when something slammed into her forcefully. Feeling the faint buzz of magic in her hands, she put one palm up, but a voice froze her.

 

"My child." it gasped. "You must flee! Quickly now! There is not much time to be had before they are here..." Mother Bodil grabbed her face clumsily and Ildri dully wondered how they could be so warm when Ildri was chilled to the bone, but she shook the thoughts off as she noticed the large cut on Mother Bodil's forehead, the bruising on her wrists, the weary and frightened look in her eyes.

 

"Mother Bodil, you must tell me what is going on. I cannot help you unless I know what is wrong." She covered Mother Bodil's wrinkled hands with her own and squeezed them reassuringly, but Mother Bodil pulled them form her grasp quickly.

 

"No, Ildri. You do not understand. If you do not go now, they..." she whispered the word, glancing around at the sky as if afraid something would spring at her suddenly. "They will come for you and you will be killed. We all might be dead or captured by the morrow." She took her hands away from Ildri's face then, gripping her arms tightly and looking at the sky.

 

Ildri reached an uncertain out to her, but Mother Bodil shook herself out of her reverie at that moment and slapped Ildri's hand away from her roughly.

 

"Do you not see, child?!" she screeched angrily, eyes bright with anger and fear as she stared at Ildri. "You will DIE if you are here when the Beings from Above arrive! Run now and save yourself!"

 

Ildri's mouth ran dry and she squeezed her hands together tightly.

 

"Be-beings from Above? Are you certain?"

 

"No, Ildri. I merely did this to myself for sport." she replied drily, blue eyes showing her impatience. "Yes, of course I am certain. Now, LEAVE. Go. Run to the temple and hide until the Asgardians arrive to fight. You have to survive, Dri. Even if it means others may die. Even if I must." She squeezed Ildri's clammy hand tightly, her palm cool and dry.

 

"Mother Bodil, you must come with me. We can hide together within the temple, maybe even smuggle some in some of the staff with us." Ildri spoke quickly, almost spitting out the words in her haste.

 

Mother Bodil was shaking her head back and forth before Ildri even ceased talking.

 

"You know as well as I that I am too weak, child. And someone must warn the other villagers. The servants and I are beneath you. We do not matter like you do. Go, save yourself now. Use your magic if you must. I doubt many would have objections now, not in the face of death."

 

Ildri felt her mouth drop in shock and she choked out "You knew of my magic all this time?"

 

Mother Bodil smiled sadly before touching Ildri's cheek tenderly one last time.

 

"Of course, Dri. You never were too good at cleaning up. Now GO!"

 

A sob tore out of Ildri as she turned and began to run toward the wood, cape and hair trailing in the wind behind her. She cast one glance back at Mother Bodil before she disappeared between the trees, almost slipping on the dead, stinking fruit below the trees as she looked. Her caretaker stood by the villa, hand moving and small smile on her lips. It was the last time Ildri saw her for a very long time.

 

***************************************************

 

When Ildri finally reached the temple, she dropped to her knees at the foot of the stairs and heaved up the small amount of food she had ate that morning. Spitting out the bitter taste, she wiped her mouth slowly and stood, casting a glance back toward the village. As she had ran through the wood, she had listened for cries for help or the sounds of a battle ensuing, but the only thing that had greeted her was the sounds of her own gasps for breath. She prayed fervently to the Nine that Mother Bodil was wrong. _Perhaps she just hit her head. Or is going senile. Anything_ , Ildri thought hopefully as she began the long climb up the stairs, deciding that if she saw nothing from the top, she would head back quickly. And probably face the wrath of her guards later, but head back nonetheless. She twisted around once she got to the peak, expecting to see the village small and sleepy, villagers hardly moving in the early morning. Instead, the sight in front of her brought her to her knees once more, her stomach roiling.

 

In the sky was a large gaping hole. It looked so wrong there, the edges pulsing and throbbing. There was a faint thum in the air, growing louder and louder until it was a deafening, horrible buzzing noise. Then the hole erupted, spewing hundreds of tiny dots into the open sky.

 

 _Oh Gods,_ Ildi thought queasily, on the verge of fainting. _We will all die today._

 

Suddenly, the low smell of burning filled the air. The Beings were descending on the village, the only place she had ever called home, yet her feverish brain recalled the smell of a fire. Or perhaps she was not as feverish as she thought for a hand grabbed her exposed shoulder gently, warming skin she had not even realized was cold.

 

"Careful child," a voice murmured softly. "All is not lost yet. Were you not told all is darkest before the dawn?"

 

Ildri gasped and turned quickly, into the hawkish yellow eyes of the burning woman.

 

Smiling, the woman beckoned. "Come Ildri. I have much to tell you in such a short time."

 

Her wings opened then, and Ildri struggled to keep her mouth shut. They were beautiful. As she had often imagined, of course. For how that she looked at the woman, really looked at her, Ildri knew who she was.

 

"The Phoenix." she breathed softly, scarcely believing her eyes. The woman smiled faintly

 

"Of the many names I am known by, I treasured that one the most. Now," she paused, staring intently towards the village. "I do believe it is time for them to stop."

She flicked her hand and Ildri turned to see what she had done.

 

"Incredible," she whispered, in a daze. The specks seemed frozen in place, but as she watched, she saw them move fractionally.

 

"They can only be stopped for so long, ill-starred. Now come, these aging bones will not last much longer."

 

Ildri pushed herself up off the ground, watching the woman before her as she stood. Noticing the strands of red among was almost completely white hair, the wrinkles etched in her face. Yellow eyes of a bird staring just back at her just as intently. The Phoenix was a young woman when she went into the statue, but that was well over ten thousand years ago, Ildri realized with a start. Yet she was still alive and ready to offer some sort of assistance, much more than could be said of the villagers below. Ildri wobbled back and forth a bit unsteadily before following after the Phoenix into the topmost room. She waved her hand quickly as Ildri watched on, l lighting the torches Ildri had thoughtfully put on the walls one day one drab day. A stone chair was in the space left by the absence of the statue, almost resembling a throne. She sat down heavily upon it before staring at Ildri with those golden, unblinking eyes. A small smile touched her lips.

 

"I prefer fire to surround me at all times. Even through the day. Tis...comforting for a being of my disposition. I may have slightly influenced your thoughts to put up the torches." She coughed lightly into her hand after motioning around the room. "Sit down now, child." she motioned to the small set of stairs leading to the throne.

"Or should I call you "child"?" she asked herself. "After today I am afraid you will not be allowed the luxury. Perhaps you never quite had it in the first place. As long as I have been watching you, it seems not. But I digress."

 

Her eyes gleamed in the flickering light, seeming more and more alien with each passing second. She rolled back the sleeves of her dress, revealing the feathers that lined the outside of her arms. Though they might have once been bright and full like had been said, they were now thin and faded.

 

"You know my story. Some of my story. There was much left from that fable. Alas, that was my mistake. Placing my trust in the wrong people, perhaps not giving some as I should have. I fear by the time we are done talking, many of my mistakes will be apparent. I only tell you them so you do not fare as I have." She leaned forward, tipping Ildri's face up with one finger. The Phoenix studied her face closely, seeing the fear and resignation, but also the anger and will to live that occupies us all.

 

"Yes, you are very different from the girl that I saw from the top of the temple all those years ago. But that is good. Very good. She would not be able to survive what you are going to survive, do what you must do. Not even a tenth." She retracted her arm and leaned back in the chair, smiling. "But before you can do what you are meant for, I must tell you why it will be you and not myself doing the tasks. After today, I will be no more."

 

Ildri felt her mouth go dry.

 

"W-what do you mean? You have only just came back to life! There is so much I must learn from you. Magic, fighting!" she protested, fingers tightly gripping her knees. "And Phoenixes are immortal! I read it once in a book!” she said desperately.

 

The Phoenix looked amused.

 

"You should not always believe what you read, you know. However, this time it is mainly true."

 

Ildri breathed a small sigh of relief before smoothing her hair down.

 

"Except," the Phoenix paused delicately, "We do not go by that name. Neither are all of us so taken to fire. The Niimlon of Skakin are hardly a fairytale race, after all. These people only gave me that name because they saw my wings, my fire. If they saw the rest of my kind, they would think us nymphs. Or worse. Maybe gods." she shuddered.

 

Ildri raised her eyebrows, infinitely confused by the whole thing. She shook her head.

 

"What do you mean that you will be no more after today? Surely you can best these beings with a flick of your hand!"

 

"That is just it, Ildri. They are not "Beings from Above" as these people so love to call them, but the monsters I have been running from most of my life. My monsters." She paused, and her eyes glazed over, lost in another time. "Sometimes the monsters are those who reveal us for what we truly are." she whispered. She suddenly shook her head and snapped out of her reverie, focusing on Ildri again. "Time grows shorter. I will tell you my tale, but you must not speak a word until it is through. Not to speak your opinion, not to offer words of comfort. This realm depends on it. Do you understand?"

 

Ildri nodded quickly, her eyes wide and full of curiosity with a touch of fear. She stroked her thumb absently over Svanesang, feeling the intricate patterns through her gloves.

 

"Good." The Phoenix ruffled her feathers, watching as a few drifted slowly to the ground. "My story does not begin in this world, no. As you might have guessed." she began wryly. "My world is nowhere near this one, thank all for that. It is in another dimension, and we are entirely different from your people. Or perhaps too much alike, I know not.” She stopped, closing her eyes briefly. "On my world, war is all we have known for a very long time. What we are. War against those who have wronged us, dared to question us. War against those who have threatened our sister planets, our friends-in-arms. Without war, what were we? Without wings to fight, to soar?" she whispered.

 

" We were not always so war-like, though. In the beginning, we were more like these people. Our lifespans ranged very far, but we were still vulnerable. Weak, but somehow still strong. I knew many a comrade who fell in battle, many a woman during childbirth. And there were those among the Niimlon who preferred more...admirable things. Knowledge, the arts, the sciences. But they all depended on us to keep them safe. The true warriors, the Niimlon that could protect against anything, overcome any obstacle. Until the plague came to our lands. Then we were weak once more. It only took one man carrying a sickness he brought from another planet, a bird flu as he so jokingly called it, and my entire species was threatened as it never had been before. We began to die off in scores. Our scientists all moved to find a simple cure. Instead, they found immortality. Our immortality, soon your immortality, became the question of our enemies."

 

Ildri's eyes went wide at this, but the Phoenix raised an eyebrow at her and she quickly closed her mouth.

 

"When this is all over, you will be almost entirely one of the Niimlon. What effect it will have on our body, I know not. We were all born with wings, with a passion for one of the elements soaring through our veins. You are different. Painfully so, and I cannot promise all the effects of the change will be pleasant. I know only that it is what must be done. You must be strong where I was weak." She grabbed Ildri's arm tightly.

 

"My people...they grew too powerful for some." she paused. "Anyone who drank the elixir had to be strong to survive its burn. But for those who did, there were certain rewards: immortality, influence over the elements, the ability to travel through dimensions and an almost...magic-like power. Unfortunately, there were certain,” she paused, “consequences. In order to obtain eternal life, sacrifices had to be made. The taking of a soul from another. At the end of every cycle, it is what we must do. Once you drink the elixir and begin your first cycle, you can never stop, or you will die. A true death, not just the one you face when you are at the end of the cycle and are reborn. The elixir only needs to be drunk once, but the soul must be taken before every death."

 

She released Ildri's arm. leaning back in the chair once more before pinching her eyes shut.

 

"When you take a soul to consume, you are taking the very essence of a being, and from that you gain some of them, their personality. Some good, some bad. Always killing them. Taking them from whatever life exists after this one and letting them burn inside you for an eternity. We tried to only take the worst of the galaxy to kill and harvest, the criminals and the degenerates. We wanted to do the best in this new situation we found ourselves in, believe me. But you yourself know sometimes the wrong are convicted, that not every person can be considered truly bad or evil."

 

She opened her eyes. "You can see why it was a very questionable practice."

 

Ildri nodded, scarcely believing what she was hearing. Her mouth puckered with a bit of disgust.

 

"I am sure our enemies were even more convinced," the Phoenix snorted. "But we lived in our cycles, none two the same. When some were near the end, others were just beginning. And we were ALWAYS ready to defend and protect," she breathed. "But the forces against us were numerous, for they argued none should be granted eternal life, nor be able to take the soul of another, no matter how heinous the crime of that being. We knew the truth, of course." She stopped, her eyes moving to the doorway of the temple.

 

"The "noble" race, the Zurir. They were the head of the forces that threatened us. The only ones that were cunning and strong enough to come close to defeating us. " she sneered. "The foes that line your skies now. They wanted the power for themselves. But not just the power. They wanted all of us dead to ensure they would have no one to oppose them. And they were willing to do anything to accomplish their plans. They inserted themselves into our world, taking advantage of the small rifts that existed between the different elemental groups that dwelled on Skakin. Making friends with those who refused to turn with us, exploiting the arguments my race had on whether it was right or not. They even used their technology, disguising themselves to look like us. I would not be surprised if there one or two among you now. Perhaps some that have only came in the past few years?"

 

Ildri flinched, thinking back to the main villagers and their grudges against her. Could one of them really be a Zurir? The Phoenix watched her carefully, golden eyes boring into her.

 

 

"P'raps not. 'Tis only a thought. You would not be able to know if were one in that village. And 'tis far too late for those worries now. As it was for us then. By the time we realized what was happening, they had wormed their way into our entire kingdom, our governments. As you may have guessed, some of the Niimlon helped with that." she scoffed, shaking her head with scorn.

 

"Cowards and traitors, the lot of them. Our king and no choice then but to activate Blis'e, our defense system. Only to be used in the most dire of situations when even our Ragers could not solve the problem. Blis'e...does not work in a traditional way. It kills all those who do not have our blood, expelling them from the planet past the atmosphere and into outer space. All the patrons left on Skakin fall under a deep sleep, and the planet itself stays hidden. I thank the scientists and magi who came together to create the system, especially the invisibility properties. Unfortunately, only those with the blood of the Niimlon may find and reawaken the rest," she stopped entirely then, tears trailing down her cheeks. "I am the last Nimlonian I know of that is awake. Before Blis'e was activated, I was summoned before the King and told my mission: to find help in another galaxy or dimension and awaken my kind when I felt the time was right. Some of our most trusted officials had turned against us, countless lives lost that day because of our foolishness and arrogance: we needed help not just physically, but mentally as well. It mattered not who I brought back, just that they were trustworthy and wise. The King was sure all the Bugs had been destroyed, but I know now that is false. We never found the Queen, and that is exactly how the hives manage to survive: by going into battle without her. With her no doubt watching from elsewhere." she looked upward, her fists clenched.

 

"When I came here, I brought only my magic, swords, and select books I thought might be useful in explaining my race to those who might offer assistance. I had no idea where I was when I came out of the portal. When opening the gate to another world, things can get...tricky. As you can imagine, I was, confused, especially by all the people surrounding me," she smiled crookedly. "I almost incinerated the lot of them. It was they who mistook me for a phoenix. I took the name, in part because no one but the Niimlon can utter it, part because I liked the myth. The clarity. The purity." She pursed her lips and sat still for a few moments.

 

"I did not burn the villagers, and that was when I first met Bjorn. He had stumbled in after fishing all day. He wanted to help if possible," she stopped again, scrubbing her face with her hands. "He reeked of fish, the sea. He was so b-b-beautiful."

 

She broke down into quiet sobs, and Ildri wanted to comfort but did not quite know how. She hesitantly stood up, gripping the Phoenix's shoulder comfortingly. After a few moments, the Phoenix quieted and Ildri sat on the cold stones once more. The Phoenix wiped her eyes unsteadily before beginning to speak again.

 

"Bjorn. I was wholeheartedly selfish with him. His blood is on my hands. He was part of the reason I stayed in this village instead of moving to a larger city or the capital. The gods of this realm had a part in it as well, of course," she raised an eyebrow. "They were quite displeased when this temple was built. Or even before that, when I arrived here and took the attention off of them. I suspect they were also suspicious of me because they could not see where I had came from or what my future was," she motioned around the room. "They grew even more apprehensive when the people began to flock to me, eager to worship a new being, one of fire and mystery. Perhaps they thought I would offer my followers eternal life."

She deliberated for a moment, her flames growing, consuming her hair and dancing over her scalp.

 

"When I realized Bjorn was fated to die, truly realized it, nearly a thousand years had passed since I had arrived. I told him all of my secrets, but I knew with him they were well-kept."

 

Her fists were clenched tightly, but she still shook in the seat. The fire was rising higher, and the flaming torches around the room seemed to be pulling in closer to her, making the room almost unbearably hot.

 

"He was wary of making the change to become one like me, but love works in such a way that it can blind a body at times. You do not know much about that yet. Thank the Nine, to borrow a phrase from you."

She smiled faintly at Ildri, then peered around her to look outside. Her eyes widened.

 

Ildri turned to see what the Phoenix was staring at and saw that the Beings, no, Zurir, she corrected herself, had moved closer to the temple. At least ten of them were making a slow descent, with one much closer than the others. The low buzzing sound began again, and Ildri's stomach churned. From that distance, Ildri could faintly make out their armor, and the giant wings on their backs. _They almost look like giant wasps. Giant wasps that walk like us. And have advanced technology and fucking weapons_ , she thought apprehensively, panic dredging its way through her body. It dawned on her suddenly that if they were indeed like the bug, they had to have stingers somewhere on their bodies, too. Every curse word she had ever learned forced itself into her mind at the sheer prospect of having to face even one of these creatures. Fearing she might pass out if she did not, Ildri swiveled back around, worried look permanently etched on her face. The Phoenix's eyes were narrowed and her lips were pursed. Her flames grew low, a slow burn cooking the temple.

 

"One approaches." The Phoenix exhaled slowly and raked her silver hair back from her face. She suddenly seemed much more tired, more vulnerable. "He will be yours to face, I am afraid. But I am rambling. Forgive an old woman, just this once. We must finish this tale. I am slated to die soon. Your time is just beginning, though. Come. We need to prepare you."

 

She rose, beckoning for Ildri to follow her as she stepped to where Ildri's books were hidden. The stones rose easily, and the Phoenix smiled at her.

 

"To think, if you had just moved a few feet over, you could have discovered this hidden spot years ago. But no matter. This was a much better spot to hide your books, no question about that. Now, were you ever the least bit curious about why the doors at the bottom of the temple will not open?"

 

Ildri nodded slowly. Almost all of her reconstruction had taken place on the outside of the temple, repairing the crumbling stones and grooming the wildlife that grew around it. Over the years, her puzzlement over the doors had only increased, and she often wondered why they were even there if there was no passage inside. She gingerly stepped over to the Phoenix, picking up the books and cradling them in her arms. The Phoenix waved her fingers and the stones flew up, almost clocking Ildri in the face.

 

"Someone had to have magicked them shut." She unfurled her wings, mischievous smile on her face. "Take care now." she whispered, eyes glittering as the wings unfolded to their full length.

 

The feathers on the outer edges of her arms rose, and with a careful finger, the Phoenix drew a circle along her dress, burning wherever she touched to ashes and exposing her calves and upper legs. Ildri saw the feathers there had also risen, and she clutched her books tighter. The area where the stones had been had left a massive hole in the floor of the room, and upon closer inspection, Ildri could see the stairs leading down into the bowels of the temple.

 

"Hold tight." the Phoenix spoke in her ear, appearing by her side with a speed that was almost frightening.

 

With that, she grabbed Ildri securely across the waist before they dropped down in the dark depths of the temple.

 

"No time for stairs, I am afraid!" she shouted almost gleefully as they plunged downwards.

 

Ildri, who had always wanted to experience flight, thought the Phoenix was taking her freedom much too liberally as yet another cobweb hit in the face. Still under the oath of silence, however, she remained mute and promised herself she would never go in a place so dark or dank again. Finally reaching what Ildri guessed was the bottom, they landed gently, the only light in the room the soft glow of the Phoenix's flames.

 

"Have you noticed anything odd about the temple?" the Phoenix asked quietly.

 

Biting back a few remarks, Ildri instead answered "The inside, this...it should not be possible structurally. Could not be possible. It makes no sense with the design, not without a large amount of...magic." she trailed off.

 

The Phoenix watched her with guarded eyes, smoldering silently as she stopped pacing the space and stood still.

 

"S-sorry about that, I know I was supposed to stay quiet. Limited time and all that," she blushed as she spoke, glad for the dark that hid her cheeks.

 

 

"Never apologize for answering a question someone has asked you. Chances are, they are asking you for a purpose, and I most certainly was. I needed to know how well your perception of magic was, and now I have my answer. There are so many things you can do with magic, as you very well know," she threw up her hand, motioning to the walls. "There are many more things you cannot do with magic. Sometimes, should not do."

 

She fell silent then, closing her eyes and swaying back and forth lightly.

"Magic could not bring Bjorn back, neither could it stop those eyes from staring, seeing the atrocities and being pleased. The warrior within me, the most primal parts, the ones that sing for rage and vengeance, it is one of these things. Ragers fight and kill, warriors of amazing strength and endurance. They know no mercy. When the Rager comes, she is violent, and she cannot be stopped. Passion ignites her, and sometimes she comes when I do not call. That is the price we paid for safety on Skakin. The price I paid for burning and killing after I found Bjorn's corpse nailed up in the temple."

A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she hugged herself tightly, wings almost forming a cocoon around her.

 

"His body was still warm. Did those pages tell you that? Did it tell you how they cut out his eyes? How they castrated him?" her voice was hoarse, angry, desperate.

She began to breathe heavily, and the flames grew around her, further cocooning her.

"The Rager burned, and so did they. My only thoughts were of vengeance, none of them logical. I did not even stop to question who might have done the deed. No one from that village could have. They were either loyal to me or complete imbeciles. Sometimes both," she snorted and wiped her face, flames momentarily abated.

"I should have known there was something amiss. But I let my emotions overcome me. As I always have. I pray you will not follow so similar a design."

"Who do you believe did it then?" Ildri spoke quietly.

The Phoenix lifted her head.

"The gods of the realm, perhaps," she pursed her lips. "I thought the Zurir, maybe, but why would they go after my lover instead of me? Or follow me into the portal I had made? It lead straight back to my world, there was no reason for them to murder Bjorn instead of following me. I know not who did the deed, and that is a matter that will be left up entirely to you, I am afraid. If you so desire to pursue it. He was not yours, so you need not worry yourself over the matter if you do not wish to."

Her eyes flashed, and in the dark light, Ildri could have sworn the were almost black instead of yellow.

"After I brought the Rager back in, I was ashamed of what I had done. But the time for apologies had came and went, and my blood was sought. Rightfully so, I am afraid," she smiled a pained smile. "Letting them kill me would have been so much easier than what I did, but I had to think of my race, something I had not done for far too long. After coming back here to this temple, I released Bjorn's soul into the stars. Then I hid. In that damned statues. For more than ten thousand goddamned years."

She closed her eyes briefly, rubbing her temples with the tips of her fingers. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, searing into Ildri.

 

"But one day, amid all that self-pity and disgust, I felt something. Someone. Someone so powerful she could break through my barriers: your mother."

Ildri felt her insides leap. Her mouth opened and closed, eyes full of questions, but she remained quiet.

 

"Only powerful sorcerers can attract the minds of others. But you already knew that. You have felt the pull yourself, you just did not know what it was. Chances are, your mother did not either. But it shows that you and I, we have always been connected. Held together by a thin red string.. You may be ill-starred, but we have always been fated to meet, to become. I began making my plan then."

 

Her eyes looked crazed for a moment and Ildri was alarmed, but the look was quickly muffled and the Phoenix smoothed and ruffled her feathers down and continued.

 

"That light went out, but another light soon replaced it: you. Your mother was quite the Diviner, the Heavens above knew what she saw. I had to rearrange my vision after she died, center it around you. But I had plenty of time to do that."

Ildri felt her jaw slacken, the blood rush to her face. _What had her mother saw? And what exactly was the Phoenix planning?_

 

The Phoenix interrupted Ildri's thoughts when she began talking again, playing with tiny flames and forming them into shapes as she did.

 

"Some are destined to be enchanters from birth. You are one of them. Magic runs through your veins, a legacy from your mother, perhaps hers before her. Eventually, I watched you walk through the woods to me. Accompanied by those heathens, but it was by that I saw your true worth and knew you were the right choice. When that filthy boy touched the temple and I caused that rock fall, you saved him. With memories of the past wounds he had caused you running through your veins, you saved him. And I knew you were worthy to be my successor."

The words seemed to tumble out of the Phoenix's mouth, her fire casting an eerie glow around the unlit chamber as it twisted and writhed.

Ildri's mouth fell open.

"T-that was you?" her voice shook with equal parts awe and anger.

 

"Of course, dear," the Phoenix grinned, teeth flashing. "I told you we have been bound from the start. Without that one event, who knows where your life would be right now. The lives of the villagers, MY life. Even Skakin."

 

She paused, craning her head up as if to listen to something in the distance. Silver strands of hair flying, she quickly whipped her head back.

 

"He draws nearer. We have but a few minutes now." She stopped looking at Ildri. "I can feel your anger now, dear. It is pure, unadulterated. It seeps from you. Keep it." She bared her teeth, and it was impossible to tell if it was a smile of malice or some other emotion. "The Rager loves it. Feeds on it, practically."

She moved quickly from where she had been sitting, clapping her hands together suddenly. Flames shot from her body and formed small birds, perhaps actual phoenixes, that flew agilely through the air and perched on the walls, lighting the whole room. The illuminated room showed Ildri its contents, the altar, the various abandoned statues and other large furnishings. But the corner was where the Phoenix drifted, and Ildri followed closely behind. A small bundle was there, along with a few books and two large blades. Bending over sharply, the Phoenix grabbed the bundle, cradling it in her arms. Slow fingers unwrapped the cloth, revealing a flaxen jar decorated with red gems.

 

"The elixir of eternal life. Yours now," the Phoenix held it out to her, hand trembling slightly. "This was to be Bjorn's. Before his demise, I dreamed of great things for him. For us."

 

Ildri accepted the jar, marveling at its warmth and weight. She hugged her mother's books closer to her chest with her free hand, glad for the solid substance. They grounded her like nothing else could. She turned back to the Phoenix, listening as she began speaking again.

 

"Those dreams I had for Bjorn and myself, they made me ignore why I came here. You need to finish the deed I was made for. I believe you are the only one who truly can now that I have failed. These will be your weapons," she gestured to the blades. "Hel Blades, as they have been so affectionately named by these people," she smirked. "Then supposed the blades were able to send a body's soul to Hel when they sliced through them I never corrected them. The truth is so much worse," her hair slid forward as she lowered her face, covering it completely. "The blades...they take the soul of all who they pierce and kill. It was mainly done as a precaution so I did not die in battle. You may sift through them, choose which you desire to begin a new cycle with. They remain trapped there, in the blades, and must do your bidding should you choose to let them out. I have used them many a time in battle. Hel hath seen no army like them."

 

"Can they be released?" Ildri asked quietly, knowing not whether she was horrified, disgusted, or secretly comforted by the knowledge she now had.

 

The Phoenix nodded slowly.

"Yes, I suppose. But souls that have been captured and held against their will that long, perhaps even fighting against their brethren...t'would not be a wise move, I think," she added.

"Sometimes one soul will not suffice after a large battle where you are injured greatly. You may need to use more than one, so ration them carefully," she advised Ildri, fingers picking at her sleeves.

 

She seized several of the books lying on the ground and stuffed them in a large knapsack she had seemingly pulled out of nowhere, grabbing Ildri's own books from her arm and stuffed them in as well.

 

"You will need all these books on magic, fighting, and the history of my planet...there are even a few scrolls in here about my adventures on Vanaheim," she offered Ildri a crooked smile.

 

But the smile dropped off her face when she finished tying the bag and placed it on the ground.

 

"You never asked for any of this. Perhaps will not deserve the pain, agony that comes with this life. But I can only hope you will survive the transformation. I am not strong enough to do this, to be the Phoenix any longer, but you will be," she hesitated. "I know you are not ready to restore the Niimlon and Skakin to their former glory. Not yet. But one day you will be. When you have gained enough allies and become truly worthy, the knowledge will reveal itself. Until then, it will reside within you. Waiting. As I have done."

The smile she offered then was somber, full of centuries old pain and regret. "Are you ready? The lone warrior has nearly reached us."

Stomach roiling, Ildri felt herself nod slowly. "Will that be the first soul I take?" she whispered, dreading the response.

"No, Ildri," the Phoenix raised an eyebrow at her. "I thought you would have figured this out by now. You are a smart enough girl. The first soul you take shall be mine. How else will you get the wings and fire? The Niimlonian powers? Release your inner Rager?"

 

Ildri blanched. "I-I thought they would come with the elixir. I cannot ju-just kill you!" she stammered, backing away quickly until she had bumped into a grimy wall. She clutched the jar tightly, scarcely feeling the dull ache in her fingers.

 

The Phoenix stepped toward her calmly, stretching out her hand. Ildri leaned away, cringing, but eventually allowed the Phoenix to pull her to her breast and hold her there. The white cloth smelled of fire and ashes, of a fire that ceased to burn.

 

"Ildri," she breathed. "I wish we had more time. So I could explain this much more clearly. So you would fully what needs to be done." She stepped back, cupping Ildri's face in her hands. "Sometimes killing is the only answer. It may seem barbaric, but when your enemies are standing outside your front door, ready to kill you, maybe even your village or planet...what other choice remains? You wanted to help, and with these powers, you will. I can promise you that."

She kissed Ildri's forehead before releasing her, stepping back to eye her critically. "Are you ready now?" she asked.

 

"Yes," Ildri croaked.

 

The Phoenix nodded. "Good. Take off anything of value to you. They will not be of much use to you after this if you leave them on."

 

With shaking fingers, Ildri loosened her cloak, tossing it and her gloves over one of the statues. She sat Svanesang at its feet, still trembling, from fear or a disembodied sort of excitement she did not know. When she was finished, the Phoenix spoke again.

 

 

"Alright, come here now. Stand exactly here, and take the lid off the jar."

She positioned Ildri in the center of the room facing her before she retrieved the two swords from the corn where she had left them.

 

"I know you have had much practice with the sword, so these should not be too difficult for you to master. Merely anyone can wield the damn things with some practice, but it takes one with true soul and rage to make them burn."

 

As if to make a point, the swords began to burn, their fire a deep orange in one blade, blue in the other.

 

"Hel blades, indeed," she whispered as she stroked a finger over the hilt. She cast Ildri a small, sad smile.

 

"Do not look so frightened, so glum. You will be doing what so many have tried to accomplish in battle: slaying me."

 

The smile slid from face, and she took several deep breaths, perhaps to calm herself.

 

"After you drink the elixir, you will only have a few moments before the pain takes over. You need to stab me with the blades in that time and be ready to take my soul after that. I cannot show you how to do that, but the blades will know what to do. Without the blades, if the occasion should arise after this one day and you must take a soul, you will know what to do. My memories will guide you. If you can channel my soul through the blades, that will be the best thing to do. But watch that you do not let any others into your body! Not quite yet."

 

Ildri nodded rapidly, tears coursing down her face. She wanted nothing more than to smash the damn jar, to magic them away to some place safe before the hellstorm was released. But this was her destiny, and she would be damned if she would do anything less than face it. She rose the jar to her lips, hands steady at last.

 

"Ildri?" the Phoenix called. "One last thing: a gift to you. I was always the romantic."

 

Tears slipped freely down her cheeks now, but there was no tremor in her voice.

 

"I brought another eternal elixir back from Skakin. In case Bjorn and I ever had a child. 'Tis yours now. It is in the cupboard behind you. Grab it before you leave this place. Choose a mate wisely. And tell him, or her, the truth. All of it. Always the truth. But never give your trust to others freely. Know their hearts well before you do so." She closed her eyes, jaw clenched.

 

"Be ready when I am truly dead. My time stop will cease to work, and that bug will be coming for you."

 

Nodding to herself, she walked to Ildri, eyes still closed tightly. She wobbled back and forth lightly, and Ildri could see she was clutching something in her hand. The Phoenix brought her closed fist up to her chest, pressing it against her heart.

"Do it now."

 

Steeling herself, Ildri turned the jar up and gulped the liquid down. It was both bitter and sweet at the same time, thick and an odd texture on her tongue. It burned as it went down her throat but seemed to make everything a thousand times sharper. She chugged it all down, bending over at the waist when she was through, almost falling to her knees. The jar clanged uselessly to the ground, making a clanging noise as it did. A dull fire was crawling up her legs, and she prayed to the Nine that she would have enough strength to lift the swords and do the deed.

 

"Ildri! Now!" the Phoenix called to her frantically.

 

Standing on wobbly legs, Ildri grabbed both the swords, drawing them back far enough to get the momentum required to slice through the Phoenix in one try. She acutely felt the sweat running down her back, heard the fire birds around the room crooning what could only be called a song of mourning. She stepped forth quickly before she could lose her nerve, stabbing the blades through the Phoenix's midsection. Ildri raised her off the ground with both the swords sticking out the other side, and the Phoenix slowly slid down them to the hilts, hot blood running down the handles.

The Phoenix gasped and her wings opened, extending to their full length. She dropped the thing she had been holding in her hand, and it bounced noisily to the ground. She opened her eyes one last time. The black irises looked into her, and Ildri saw the full power of the Rager, barely contained by the dying woman.

 

"Your name? Your real name?" Ildri begged, feeling faint as the pain began to creep up her back, making her arms numb. The blood was beginning to splatter over her clothing, but she found in the moment she could not care less. A strange sensation began to vibrate through the swords, and Ildri knew it was the Phoenix's soul that was beginning to spill out and into her.

"You can finally...u-unders-stand," she coughed, and blood dribbled out of her mouth. "Doj'hae L'vaftasu," she garbled, using her last bit of strength to touch Ildri's forehead lovingly.

 

Ildri fell to her knees and Doj'hae fell with her, her golden eyes closing even as they did. With one last surge, her soul left her body and surged through the blades, emptying into Ildri. She pulled the handles out and Doj'hae's body tumbled sideways, crimson smile on her lifeless face. Blood seeped out of her, staining the floor. Gagging as the smell hit her, Ildri's head began to throb in time with the beating of her heart.

 

So warm, she thought dazedly, clutching at her sides. Too warm. She abruptly doubled over as the burning spread through her back and shoulders. She moaned then, a low, broken noise she had never imagined herself making. Such sounds she had thought were reserved for dying animals, for the diseased and decaying. _But I am dying_ , she realized as another wave of pain hit her. _That Ildri is gone forever. I am her now_.

She dry heaved several times, devoid of anything left to vomit. She seared, smoking under the watching eyes of the flame birds that circled the walls. Their song seemed more accusing now, less gentle than it had been when Doj'hae was alive.

All at once, several things happened. The pain in her back sharpened tenfold, wings starting to tear out, cutting her skin wide open. She lay there, helpless against wave after wave of pain. Feathers had also begun to rise through her flesh, bloodying the outer parts of her forearms and legs, from the edges of her legs all the way down to her ankles. Ildri felt herself growing taller, more bird-like, bones elongating and shifting in ways they were never meant to. An almost vise-like pressure gripped her head. She began to truly burn then, flames licking her clothing and incinerating them. Shamefully, she felt her bladder let go.

 

 _Is this how I die then?_ she thought as the few tears she could squeeze out leaked down her face. _Naked and in a puddle of piss and blood?_ Gradually though, the pain became slightly more bearable and Ildri laid there, disorientated. She moved to sit up, and that was when her wings truly pierced through. The pain of the elixir and her transformation increased then , and she screamed so that all would know her anguish, feel it as deeply as she did. She writhed under the grip of the pain, and her vision slowly started to blacken around the edges. Just as she was about to lose herself to the dark, a wave of memories hit her, submerging her and keeping her afloat through the pain.

The slow burn of someone else's first transformation, the burn of another elixir so long ago. _Doj'hae_ , Ildri thought feebly as she lay there, finally closing her eyes and succumbing to the memories.

Sunlight on her bare skin, the crashing of waves, and wind blowing roughly against the face. Blood from battle covering her face, enemies filling the sky and coloring it black. The fear, bitter and hot, as she fell through time and space to a foreign land. Love, beautiful, blanketing the senses, encasing all the past doubt and fears. Love, the only emotion to transcend time and space, make everything else seem minimal by association. But then, loss, startling agony in the face of happiness.

 Flashes came then, of releasing Bjorn's soul into the sky, holding its precious weight in her hands before letting go. A deep hunger for revenge before disappearing into the statue. Thousands of years of loneliness, time to reflect on the mistakes made, things caused by her actions. Sitting and watching. Waiting. In vain?

 

No, a light appeared then, touching her mind and waking her from that uneasy slumber. Finally, years later, a small girl among many, defenseless and hurting, but still willing to save. As that girl looked up at the stars, bleeding and fading into the darkness, Doj'hae made her a silent promise. To save her, one day, to guide her. And then, her last memories flashed by, filled with fear but so much hope.

 

As the images began to trickle down and relocate inside the different cracks of her mind, Ildri was thrown back into the pain. Her bones, finally done lengthening, ached and throbbed mercilessly. Gingerly, she flexed the tips of her newly-made wings, eyes still clinched tightly shut. Running her fingers over the soft down, she marveled quietly. _Wings,_ she thought deliriously. _I can finally fly now. Feel the wind on my face, like Doj'hae did in her memories. As long as I live, she will never truly die._

 

She smiled then, pain temporarily forgotten, and went to open her eyes to survey the new additions to her body, but saw only blackness. _The birds must have flown away,_ she reasoned quickly. But no, she felt them now, could command them if she so wished. She wished them brighter and felt their heat upon her face, but still saw nothing.

"I cannot have gone blind," she whispered hoarsely to herself. "Fate would not be so cruel."

Bringing her hands up to her eyes, gingerly touched the outside lid and lashes, and that was when true horror crept in: there was nothing in the sockets.

"No eyes," she hissed, voice cracking. "No eyes!" She propped herself up, beginning to shout hysterically into the empty room. "What did I do wrong? Where are my eyes?!" She clawed at her own face before crawling over to Doj'hae's lifeless body.

"Fix me! By the Nine, FIX ME! I cannot live this life broken. Not again," she sobbed, shaking her roughly before shoving the carcass aside. She searched for Svanesang blindly, crawling around on her hands and knees wildly. The blood made her slip and almost topple a statue over on herself, but she paid it no mind.

"This will be over, one way or another," she snarled triumphantly as her fingers closed around the hilt of her small blade, wings dragging sadly behind her.

Ildri brought the blade up, but it clattered uselessly from her fingers a moment later as a pain like two daggers being shoved through her sockets began. Her mouth formed a soundless O, and she bent over, clutching at her face. She could not force a sound from herself, and that was when she realized true pain, true agony, was soundless, wordless. A despair that none could ease, a look into the void with none beside you to help save you from the madness. And that was the last thing she remembered before over onto the floor and descending into unconsciousness. Blessedly, she was not awake when her body crumbled into ashes, scattering over the floor in a gray mess.

************************

In the village, the people cowered in groups, some in homes, some in the stables and small shops. Those unfortunate enough to be outside hid behind trees and boulders. When the screams began from the direction of the wood, they knew one of the Beings from Above had caught someone. Surely, because no person could make such a noise, not unless they were being severely tortured, maybe even killed.

 

In homes, mothers grasped their small, shaking children, thanking the Nine it was not one of their own that had been found. In their hidden spots, lovers held one another, praying they would live to see another day. Men in the tavern readied themselves for the battle they knew was upon them, shaking hands grabbing swords and spears.

 

As the people of the village prayed for deliverance, a pair of yellow eyes opened in the temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment or question me! :) I love that stuff! Next chapter will be battle stuff and Ildri making poor decisions. Woohoo! 
> 
> Trivia: That second quote I chose is ironic because Ildri actually means "small fire". Heheh. Author humor.

**Author's Note:**

> Note that I WILL be changing things that happened in the comics and lore, but I'll try to stay as true as I can. I've pulled things from the comics, myths, and movies in order to make this, with hopefully the best things coming out of my head. The movies will stay unaffected by what I'm writing, due to...things that I can't reveal at the current moment. Thanks for reading and feel free to comment! :-)


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